Broken Roads
by MaliceInWonderland23
Summary: (sisfic)-When Rebecca Winchester's father goes missing, she and her older brother Dean are forced into an awkward reunion with the younger sibling that abandoned the family years ago.
1. Home Again

**Title: **Broken Roads  
**Category: **Supernatural  
**Genre: **Family/Supernatural/Adventure/Drama  
**Rating: **PG-13/Teen  
**Summary: **(sisfic)-When Rebecca Winchester's father goes missing, she and her older brother Dean are forced into an awkward reunion with the younger sibling that abandoned the family years ago. **  
Warnings: **Language, innuendo, minor violence. If there are any triggers related to a specific chapter, I'll post a warning at the beginning. If I list something that triggers you, feel free to contact me and we can talk about it. If you really don't feel comfortable reading it, let me know and I can give you a summary of what happens/edited version so that you can understand the story.  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own SPN, nor am I claiming to. The rights to the show go to people of a greater power. I am making no profit off of this project and it is for entertainment purposes only. Please don't sue me I already have to deal with student loans.  
**Opening Author's Notes: **Hiya, everyone. This is my first time writing for the SPN fandom, but I've been reading fic here for years. I always kind of felt like the show was lacking a constant female character so I decided to look into sisfics. I found a LOT of amazing ones and I wanted in on the action. And so, _Broken Roads _was born.

Anyways, welcome to _Broken Roads_, which is a sisfic about Rebecca (Bex) Winchester, who is Sam's (older) twin and Dean's younger sister. Obviously. In my head, she looks like **Tatiana Maslany**. In your head she looks like whoever you want, it's your brain.

I'm not going to give too much info out right now since it'll be revealed gradually. Or, if you're impatient and want to know a lot about her right this second, head over to **Bex-winchester-broken-roads dot tumblr dot com** and check out the cast page.

Also about the blog, I'll be posting manips (they may suck though since I'm kind of new to this whole Photoshop thing), answering questions, and also giving info on the ships for this fic. **_There are spoilers on the blog. I'll try to put them under the cut but there are no guarantees. _**

This story mostly follows canon for seasons 1, 2, and some of 3, but after that it'll go in a _completely _different direction that gives minor characters bigger roles and maybe puts people together that weren't on the show. So fear not, it won't just be my OC stealing lines from CC's mouth. She'll have her own storylines and a separate fate.

Thank you to **comealongpixie **for editing this and **January Lily** for giving me her opinion. Both of them are writing some pretty kickass sisfics and I recommend that you check them out.

One last thing—I plan on writing the whole series and I've got a lot planned, but sometimes updates can take a while because my muse is fickle, I'm in grad school and for some reason I thought taking five classes was a good idea, and I have a part time job. So hopefully you can stay with me through the breaks.

On that note, happy reading and make sure to leave a review on your way out!

_"Home is where my habits have habitat"_ –Fiona Apple

Chapter 1: _Home Again_

**October 31, 2005**

Rebecca Winchester blinked her eyes open and caught sight of a street sign just before her brother's Impala whizzed by it. _70 miles to Stanford. _

She dismissed it for a moment, closing her eyes and returning to sleep. And then she realized _what_, exactly, Stanford meant. Bex sat up so abruptly that she knocked her journal off of her lap. It settled on the floor of the car with a thud.

Dean, her brother, had promised a case, but because of all the crap with their dad going missing, Bex wouldn't be surprised to learn that he was planning on involving her twin. Their brother. The one that had abandoned the family. The brother that had left them for normalcy.

Life as a Winchester wasn't…typical.

It had been. It almost was. Until Mary Winchester died.

Bex and Sam had been only six months old. Sam was a strong, healthy baby while Bex was in the hospital with a lung problem. John was supposed to be with her, relieving Mary from her shift, but he'd fallen asleep before leaving.

It had been a demon. Mary was pinned to the ceiling in the nursery with a slice through her stomach. And then she had been set on fire.

Ever since that night, John had been obsessed with finding the thing that killed her. Town to town, school to school, there was no constant in any of the Winchester's lives besides each other. It was the only life Bex had known, yet deep down, she had always desired something else. Something simpler. Something else to depend on.

And although Sam was always the black sheep—he fought with dad constantly and chose studying over hunting any day—Bex never expected that he would up and leave one day.

She could still remember when he got that email informing him that he'd been accepted to Stanford on a full scholarship. He'd confided in Bex first, and she had tried to be happy for him, but she found herself only half-heartedly congratulating him. When Sam told John the news, Bex had mostly expected John's disapproval to cause Sam to stay with them.

Instead, Sam had left the door open, and his family just stared out into the night for a bit while they recovered from the shock. John had eventually moved forward to close it while Dean pursed his lips and Bex bit her lip to keep from sobbing.

What was the sinking feeling in her gut? _Abandonment_, she told herself, Over and over, she tried to tell herself that it was just because she didn't want to be lonely. But in the back of her mind, there was a voice that shrieked "jealousy" louder than any of the others. It made her sick. It kept her awake at night, just another reminder that she would never be normal.

Normal. That sounded nice. If Bex had given a crap in school then maybe she could have gone off to college too. Maybe she wouldn't have been stuck with a gun always in her hand as she followed Dean from town to town. _Maybe_.

"Where are we going?" she asked, hoping that she had been wrong. A confrontation with Sam wasn't what she needed. Bex frowned at the stereo, avoiding eye contact. Besides, Dean had been listening to this album for three days nonstop and it was becoming a pain in the ass.

"Stanford," Dean replied easily.

"Why?" she asked again. She looked up from the stereo and glued her gaze on the horizon.

"To see Sam."

Dammit. Bex sat silently for a few moments, blinking at the clouds hanging in the sky disdainfully. She and Dean had been doing just fine together. "Why?"

"Because Dad hasn't picked up his goddamn phone in three weeks and I want to figure out what the voicemail meant." Oh yeah. The voicemail. John had called the day before leaving a _really_ bizarre message. When Bex slowed it down, it got even weirder—someone on the tape kept saying _I can never go home,_ which was creepy enough as is, but paired with the first voicemail in three weeks? Even stranger.

"Why do we need help?" Bex whined childishly. She was being stupid and she knew it, but she wasn't looking forward to an awkward family reunion of any form. She wasn't looking forward to seeing just how fantastic Sam's life was. She didn't want to see—

_Everything you wanted_.

No. _No. _That was stupid. She just didn't want to—

_See everything you could have had. If you'd only tried. _

_No. _She just didn't want to talk to him. That was it.

Bex tried to block the taunts from seeping into the front of her mind, but they still called out, rather loudly, _you only have yourself to blame_.

Dean interrupted her frustrated internal conflict. "C'mon, Bex. Doesn't this strike you as a little odd? The strange voicemail, the ignoring calls for three weeks?"

"I'm pretty sure he's just at a bar somewhere. Or maybe he's on a hunt where there's no cell reception."

That was also stupid. John never went hunting without cell reception. As oblivious as he was to his children's needs, he liked to be somewhat available if they needed him.

"Okay, _fine_," she said, giving up. "Maybe there's something going on here. But it has to be something we could figure out ourselves," she protested.

"Well, Sam's dad's kid too."

"He didn't seem too apologetic when he left," Bex snapped. Right after the words came out of her mouth, a lead-like feeling settled in the bottom of her stomach. _You're jealous,_ that nasty voice reminded her. No. No, she was still just stung by his desertion. She just didn't want to be stuck with John, who never really spared her attention except to tell her to adjust her footing when she shot. She just wanted her friend back.

_You don't want him to be happy_, she accused herself. _You want him to be stuck in the life, just like you. _

_You need his help. _

"Fine," Bex snapped unexpectedly. "Fine. You're right. We need Sam."

Dean smirked triumphantly and Bex couldn't help but roll her eyes. Her aggravation at the mixed emotions she felt was making her brother seem like even more of an egotistical dick than usual.

The rest of the drive was spent in silence. Bex tried to think about the last positive memory she had with Sam. Probably during their sophomore year of high school—that was…what…seven years ago? Bex was still scrounging up straight B pluses. Junior year though, she started missing classes and failing exams, and by the end, she'd already made the decision to drop out, just as Sam made the decision to keep going after high school.

The lack of interest on Bex's part played a large part in dividing the twins. Sam tried to tutor her a few times but Bex hadn't wanted to put in the effort. Small comments about intelligence spiraled into huge fights that lasted for days. They wouldn't speak to each other. They wouldn't eat at the same time. They would refuse to share a motel bed.

Fights became so frequent that they eventually wouldn't look at each other. It would be easier to make a list of the days they spent getting along than arguing, until that day when Sam up and left. And that was that.

Bex was overwhelmed at the sudden flood of memories with Sam. Weekends with Bobby while John was out hunting, killing their first spirit when they were twelve, playing cards in the Impala with Dean. Playing hide and seek in the small hotel rooms—she liked to climb everywhere, thin and nimble, but Sam was smart enough to figure her out. How on their birthdays, Dean would cut whichever dessert they were sharing in half and Sam would let her choose which side she wanted.

A dreamy smile tugged at the edges of her lips as she lost herself in memories of a better time.

Dean never really cared for speed limits, so an hour later, they arrived in front of Sam's apartment.

"Stay here," Dean ordered, to which Bex had no objections. She crawled into the backseat and sprawled across uncomfortably. Part of the door was digging into the back of her neck and her knees were bent to the point where it felt like her whole leg was going to become dislocated. She pulled her brown hair out of its ponytail and tried to use it to cushion her neck.

What had the voicemail from John meant?

_I can never go home._

Bex laughed bitterly. "At least you have a home," she said out loud. "All I have is this car." She paused. "Well, I guess that's not really fair. It's a nice car."

She grunted in frustration and blew out a breath. The action caused her lips to vibrate, resulting in horse sounds.

_I can never go home. _

_ I can never go home. _

_ I can never go home. _

Home.

Her fingers immediately fell to neck. Buried underneath her layers of clothing was a piece of cloth tied in a knot around a metal chain. The cloth had belonged to the nightgown she was wearing. The last one mom had ever bought, the last one she wore at home.

Dean used to tell her about home. What he remembered, at least. He recounted tales of Mary. Of mom. Of times when John dropped him off at preschool and Mary packed his lunch. He described what vague memories he had of finding out about Bex and Sam.

But anytime Bex asked about Mary specifically, the first thing that Dean said was that she told him stories about angels. Guardians that protected him while he slept.

_Ha. _Considering everything that had happened, Bex had very little faith in the existence of angels.

Angels. Sprits. The voicemail. _Focus_, she chided herself, running her fingers up and down the portion of the chain resting on the back of her neck.

Okay. The last time the two of them saw John was before they headed down to New Orleans to take care of some voodoo stuff. Dean had received the voicemail right after burning the body, which meant that John could be anywhere by now.

Dean didn't have enough patience or energy to drive up and down every road in America, so they were going to have to do actual detective work.

Speaking of Dean, how long was he going to take with all of this? Bex shuffled around and lifted her arm up to check her watch. He'd been gone for a while.

She sat up and opened the car door. She stepped out of the car and straightened up before tugging her grey tank top down over the rim of her jeans. She pulled the flannel shirt from around her waist and slipped it on to guard her against the cool night air. A breeze hit her face and she flinched against it. Goddammit. It was cold.

Bex headed towards the door to Sam's apartment and knocked. Nobody came to answer so she sighed and dug a bobby pin out of her hair. Bex almost never did anything with her hair, but she usually carried bobby pins because they were inconspicuous and helpful when picking locks. The most styling she'd do otherwise was put her hair in a ponytail, or if the brown mess was really bothering her, a braid.

After a short amount of jiggling the metal piece around in the lock, Bex pushed open the door and found Sam sitting on top of Dean with his knees on either side of Dean's head. "What the hell?" she interrupted.

Sam looked over at her before standing up and helping Dean to his feet. Ever the gentleman, even after fighting. "Becca?"

At the same time, Dean asked, "Didn't I tell you to stay in the car?"

"Well _excuse me _but you were taking forever," she retorted. Bex stepped closer to her brothers.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" Sam asked.

"I was looking for a beer," Dean quipped. Bex socked him in the shoulder. That was probably uncalled for. "Ow," he grunted, rubbing the spot and glaring.

"Sorry," she mumbled, only half-apologetically. She turned to Sam. "We need to talk."

Sam gave her a weird look. "The phone?" He gestured towards the device. Wow. A home phone. That shouldn't have been such a big deal, but…wow. He had a home phone. Did he have return addresses on labels as well? Maybe he'd thrown a housewarming party with all of his friends and they'd…had appetizers or something.

"Would you have picked up?" Dean retorted when Bex didn't say anything.

"Sam?" an unfamiliar voice asked. All three Winchesters turned to the source—a blonde in a tight Smurfs tee shirt. Dean gave her a once over, to which Bex rolled her eyes.

"Jess. Hey. Dean, Becca, this is my girlfriend, Jessica," Sam introduced.

Jess squinted at the two of them and Bex waved awkwardly. She was unsure of how else to introduce herself. _Hi, I'm Sam's sister. I just broke in. Don't mind me_. Glancing around, she noticed that there were photos of the two of them all over the apartment. They _lived _together.

"Your siblings?"

"Yeah," Bex replied, smiling much too largely to be natural. Her forced grin was hurting her cheeks and probably giving off serial-killer-vibes.

Dean, meanwhile, stepped closer. "Oh, I love the Smurfs." Then, he switched gears completely. "You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league." Bex stepped forward and kicked the back of Dean's knee. He turned and stared, _what the hell_ painted on his features. Unbelievable. This could be his sister-in-law at some point and he was shamelessly flirting with her.

Woah. _Sister-in-law?_ That was ridiculous. They weren't getting married. Sure, they had a house phone. And an apartment. Plus she knew he had siblings but that didn't mean anything, did it?

Jesus. She was in denial.

"Stop," Bex muttered through gritted teeth.

Looking uncomfortable, Jess pointed behind her. "Just let me put something on."

"No, no, no. I wouldn't dream of it, seriously," Dean continued smoothly. Bex reached out with her foot again and kicked out Dean's other knee. He elbowed her in the ribs and she stumbled to the side. Bex had to fight the urge not to sock him in the eye even though all chances of looking sane were probably flying out the window.

"Sorry about my brother. Uh, well, we need to borrow Sam for a second, so…yeah. It was really nice meeting you, though," Bex stumbled.

"No," Sam piped up suddenly. "No. Whatever you want to say, you can say in front of her."

"You're making this hard, Sam," she mumbled with frustration. "Dad hasn't been home in a while."

Her twin rolled his eyes and retorted, "So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

"Uh, Dean?" Bex asked, turning to her brother with her hands on her hips.

Dean seemed kind of annoyed by the fact that she was making him do all the difficult stuff. He looked down and then back up. "Dad's on a _hunting trip_ and he hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam flinched the tiniest bit, but he did a good job of masking it. "Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside."

Bex swung the door open and let her brothers out first. "Sorry. This'll just be a second," she promised Jess.

She shut the door and ran to catch up with her brothers. "I mean, come on. You can't just break in in middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you," Sam was saying. That was probably a good point.

"You're not hearing me, Sammy. Dad's missing. I need you to help me find him," Dean fired back.

"Sam," Bex spoke quietly as she tried to play peacemaker, "you're missing the point."

"You're going along with this too?" Sam asked, incredulous. "After all the crap he put us through? When I was scared of the thing in the closet, he gave me a .45!"

Okay, so yeah, he had a point—John wasn't an A plus parent—but despite all that, Bex needed to make sure that her father was okay. If not for his sake, for her own—if he'd been hurt or worse, the thing might want to come after them too. "What was he supposed to do?" Dean snapped.

Sam glared at him. "I don't know; maybe _tell me not to be afraid of the dark_!"

Dean stared at him incredulously, trying to figure out if Sam was bullcrapping him or what. "Of _course _you should be afraid of the dark. You _know_ what's out there."

"I was nine years old!" Sam shouted back. By then, they had begun the trek across the parking lot.

All chances of peace had flown out the window. "Sam!" Bex barked. "Stop yelling. Both of you, stop yelling. Dad's missing, Sam. This is important. We need to _find him_." Sam gave her the bitchiest face Bex had ever seen, possibly the entire _world _had ever seen, and closed his eyes like he was trying to calm down. Maybe giving orders was a bad idea. She started listing off facts instead. "Our old man's a dick. I know that. But Sam…this has gotten weird. We need to figure it out. I mean—Dean. Show him the voicemail."

"M'kay." Dean opened up the trunk of the Impala and shuffled some stuff around. "Now where did I put that thing…ahah!"

He lifted it up triumphantly and hit play.

John's muffled voice spurted erratic strings of words out of the speaker. "Dean….Bex… something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful. We're all in danger."

Sam looked at Dean. "You know there's an EVP on that, right?"

"Just like riding a bike, isn't it, Sammy?" Dean asked, beaming proudly. "When Bex slowed it down…"

The eerie voice made itself clear again. _I can never go home_.

"I can never go home," Sam repeated, as though saying it again would make everything clear. "Where was he?"

"Jericho, California," Bex replied.

"Two-lane blacktop," Dean elaborated.

"About a month ago, there was this guy that went missing." Bex handed a printout from the _Jericho Herald_ to Sam. Across the top of the page read "Centennial Highway Disappearance."

Her twin looked it over before glancing up. "I don't know, guys. Maybe he was just kidnapped."

"But wait, there's more," Bex added, holding up a finger. "There was another one in April. December of 2004, one in 2003, 1998, another in 1992..."

"Ten in the past twenty years," Dean summed up.

"I see you've done your research," Sam commented. To Bex's surprise, he seemed mildly impressed. Which was validating, considering the value Sam put on anything vaguely academic.

"Someone had to. After you left," Bex said. "But…seriously. This sounds like a case, doesn't it?"

Sam looked reluctant to answer, so Dean began talking. "Sammy, in almost two years, we've never bothered you. Never asked you for a damn thing. Just this once, man."

Bex looked up at her brother with wide, pleading eyes as she silently begged him to agree.

After a few moments of torturous silence, Sam nodded. "Fine. I'll go. I'll help find him."

Bex grinned up at Sam unexpectedly, once again remembering how absurdly overgrown he was.

"Oh, and, shotgun," Sam added. Bex's grin turned into a scowl and she shook her head.

"No way, buddy. You can't just expect me to hop into the backseat because _you_ are here. You sit in the back."

"I'm taller!" Sam argued.

"I was here _first_," Bex threw back.

"Not true!" Sam protested. "I rode in the car before you did."

"I was _on the planet first_," Bex spat.

The twins glared at each other, waiting for the other to back down, when in perfect unison, they threw out their hands.

"Rock, paper, scissors," they chanted. Both came up with scissors. "Rock, paper, scissors," they repeated again. Bex held out her fist, but Sam topped it with his open palm.

"I hate you," Bex growled.

Sam laughed a little. "I have to go pack a bag. I'll be back in five minutes." He began to head off before turning around to add, "Oh. But I also have to be back by Monday."

"What's Monday?" Dean asked.

"I have an interview," Sam replied cryptically.

"Job interview?" Bex asked. Geez. What was next? White picket fence? Two point five kids? Volunteering at school barbeques and father-daughter dances?

_Don't get ahead of yourself_.

"Skip it," Dean supplied.

Sam looked unamused. "Law school, actually."

Bex pressed her lips together at the sudden reminder of how much things had changed. After the easy banter with Sam, she had felt like maybe things were going to be okay. Now? She wasn't sure. _But_, she reminded herself, _it's only until Monday. _She would survive until then.

She crawled into the backseat of the car and slammed the door behind her. She needed her journal now.

Leaning into the front seat, she stretched her arm forward and picked up the battered book. The rough cover felt familiar in her hands as she sat back.

Once she was settled in, Bex pulled her knees up to her chest and placed her leather journal on her lap.

Hunters having a journal wasn't uncommon. Most of them did. While Bex had intended for the journal to be more notes on different monsters, it had become more of a way to vent over time, something to talk to. Eventually, the entries had morphed into letters. To her mom. For a while, they were letters to God, but God did a pretty crappy job actually doing anything so she gave up hope of anything out there and resumed her letters to Mary.

As the opened the journal, she took the time to turn the pages rather than the usual frantic slapping through them to write down information before she forgot. The pages were dirty from constantly being tossed around, some of the ink was smeared due to water damage, and her handwriting was impossibly messy. But that wasn't really important.

Bex leaned over and plucked a pen off of the floor before beginning to write.

_Hi mom. _

_ So…Sam's back. I feel like you'd be happy that all your kids are together. But maybe you'd be mad that he's back hunting. Either way, it's only for one case. _

_ He has an apartment. And a girlfriend. Her name is Jessica, she's gorgeous. Dean tried to flirt with her, of course, because he's a douchebag. (Maybe if you were alive, you'd tell me not to call my brother a douchebag. But you aren't.) Sometimes I wonder how I can stand him. It's probably because he raised us. _

_ I hate this. The Sam thing. I'm mad at him for leaving, I'm mad at him for having wanting this stupid perfect normal life. I'm mad because I feel guilty for pulling him away from it. _

_ I could've had that too, maybe. If we were raised like normal people instead of warriors or whatever. _

_ Sometimes I think that I hear to talking to me. Not like in a crazy way, just…I don't know. I hear you? I feel like you're watching over me? I don't know. That sounds stupid. This whole thing is stupid. _

_ Love,_

_ Rebecca_

**A/N: **Please leave a **review **on your way out. I'd love it a lot. Any questions will be answered at the beginning of the next chapter (or I'll tell you which chapter they'll be answered in or I'll PM you).

**Fic Recommendation(s):**

**-****Grace Under Fire  
**By: comealongpixie

Medical mystery Grace Winchester has felt alienated from her brothers Sam and Dean for as long as she can remember. When their father goes missing, the three of them team up to find him, setting off a chain of events that will change both their family and the world forever. Sisfic, canon divergent. Ships inside.

**-****Us Against The World**

By: January Lily

Sisfic! Campbell "Elle" Winchester, the youngest Winchester sibling, has never led a normal life—unless one considers ganking ghosts "normal." But things shift when Elle and her brothers find themselves on a hunt for their father and the thing that killed their mother—and her. One thing is for certain, a Winchester's life is never simple. Current Season: 1. bannercred: annie.

**Reminder to _review_, please. **


	2. Broken Bonds

**A/N:** hOLY CRAP GUYS I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT SO MANY PEOPLE LOVED IT! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed. You guys brought a huge smile to my face.

REPLIES:

**bluepenquin1998:** Thank you thank you thank you! Her relationship with Sam will improve...eventually. But it'll take some time to heal, y'know? Anyways, thank you for reviewing, it made me so frigging happy to see that you liked it.

**January Lily:** You're too kind! The fact that you like the story makes me feel validated. ;) And thank you for the offer! I'll no doubt take you up on it sometime.

**JackieOh:** (note: this wonderful person made a vid for Bex! You can find it on the blog.) Your review was absolutely delightful. It made me grin for about an hour straight. Honestly. I do think that she's a little resentful towards both her brothers-Sam because he left and Dean because she feels like she owes him. It's more internalized, but Bex tends not to accept things very easily.

**comealongpixie:** Thank you! Honestly the whole thing would suck without your help.

**prettypanda117:** I'm so so happy that you like Bex. The letters will cause a lot of angst, and I hope to keep them up throughout. I'm also really glad that you liked the sibling stuff. :) And thank you for reviewing!

**Marloweee1856:** Thank you! I have to admit, I am a little proud of her snark. I'm glad that you liked it (and Bex!) too.

**switchbladeheart:** I'm glad that you like Bex! I've got so much planned for her story. I hope that you'll like it as much as I do!

**Chapter Word Count:** 4,863  
**Chapter Warnings:** Mild cursing, mild violence, suicide (depictions of a ghost reliving her death).

_"The bond of a brother and a sister is stronger than anything else I've found." _-Unknown

Chapter Two: _Broken Bonds_

**November 1, 2005**

Somewhere along the way, Bex had fallen asleep.

Her dreams had been about a simpler life. She had been in college majoring in pre-med, and her roommate was an art history major named Mandy. And Bex had been dating a guy named Brett. Brett was handsome and sweet and walked her to the entrance of her dorm-never entering, because that was against the rules-before kissing her softly on the cheek. He was gentle. Generous. Kind. Bex's polar opposite.

And then she had woken up lying in the Impala's backseat. As the dream began to fade, she squinted at the rays of sunshine glaring at her. _Goddamn, _she cursed internally as she sat up and rubbed the sore spot in her neck. The car was stationary and empty and looking out the window, she realized that they were at a gas station. Sam was at the pump filling the car.

Bex leaned over to the door and opened it, pulling herself out and standing up—only to have her legs, which she only just now realized were asleep, collapse. "Damn!" she squeaked as she fell down to the ground. Bits of gravel dug into her knees. Sam rushed over from the gas pump and grabbed her hand, pulling her up.

"Thanks," she mumbled, skirting away. Sam glanced down at her…_pitifully_. "What?" she growled. She regretted her tone instantly but bit back apologies.

Sam shrugged. "Nothing. It's just…I don't know. Let's just be civil for this weekend. This matters a lot to Dean."

"I don't owe Dean _anything_," Bex spat. "I wasn't the one who left."

Sam glared at her. "I wasn't the one who closed that door, Becca, that would be dad." Bex narrowed her eyes. Stupid Sam. Why did he always have to be right? "Besides. Didn't you ever want to be _normal?_"

_Yes_, she thought almost immediately. _All the time. _She covered her up her agreement with a snort. "It's too late for that, Sam. _'Normal'_ doesn't exist in our world and _you know it_."

"I was able to make a life for myself," he reminded her. "If I could've, you could've."

"Oh. And _what? _Abandon Dean like you did?"

"Dean would've been fine on his own!" Sam yelled back.

Bex opened her mouth to respond but was promptly cut off.

"You want breakfast?"

Both twins snapped their heads to glare at Dean. "Sure," Bex growled. She snatched the chips and water bottle from his hands.

Dean stared at her but said nothing. He shook his head and held another bag of chips up to his brother. "Sammy?"

"Pass," he responded. "How'd you pay for that anyway? Still running credit card scams?"

"Yeah, well hunting ain't exactly a pro-ball career," Dean argued through a mouthful of junk food. He opened the door to the driver's seat and sat down. Sam and Bex followed, taking their own seats.

"Which names did you use this time?" Sam asked. Bex flipped her body horizontally so that she was resting her legs on the seat next to her. She opened her window and leaned back, a gust of air causing her hair to flap around. The sky was blue and cloudless.

"Bert Aframian, and his kids, Hector and Vicky," Dean answered. Bex rolled her head to the side to watch their exchange. Sam was hunched over—the car was too small for his giant frame—and Dean had one hand on the wheel, the other holding a half-eaten sandwich.

"Sounds about right," Sam returned. He seemed to have already recovered from the argument.

Bex, on the other hand, was still upset. She clenched her jaw in an attempt to bottle her emotions.

Dean maneuvered the car out of the parking lot as Sam pulled out the music. "Dude, you've _gotta _update your cassette tape collection."

Dean spared a glance at him. "Why?"

Sam smirked. "Well, for one thing, they're cassette tapes. Two—Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica?" He dropped the tapes back into the box. "It's the best hits of mullet rock," he drawled.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Bex retorted bitterly. "Plus, you know Dean's stupid rules."

"Hey!" Dean interrupted defensively. "Not stupid. They're good rules—driver picks the music, shotgun—and backseat, for that matter—shut their cakehole. Got it, Sammy?" He picked out a tape from the box and hit play.

"You know," Sam spoke up, sounding annoyed, "'Sammy' is the name of a chubby twelve-year-old. It's _Sam." _

Dean turned the volume up as high as it could go and hollered, "Sorry! Can't hear you! Music's too loud!"

Bex sighed. _Brothers_.

She stayed still for the remainder of the drive, flinching as dirt made its way into her eyes. It burned, but she couldn't find it in her to change position. Finally, the Impala passed a bridge infested with police cars.

"Stop," Bex said suddenly, swinging back into a sitting position and leaning forward to slap Dean's shoulder. "Slow down here."

"Alright," he snapped, aggravated by the fact that she was still slapping him. "Alright! Cut it out! Jesus."

Sam looked mildly amused by the situation, but stopped when Dean leaned over and pulled a box out of the glove compartment. Bex waited for an I.D. to be handed to her and when she felt the leather case in her palm, she opened it up. "Federal Marshal." She made a sturgeon face and nodded. "Okay."

Sam looked at the I.D. in his hand with disdain. _Jesus Christ, Sam, hurry the hell up. It's not that big a deal. We're saving lives. Move your ass, _she screamed mentally. She would've said it out loud, but it didn't seem like the right time to start another fight.

After what seemed like an eternity, Sam got out of the car and followed Dean down the bridge.

"You guys see anything?" one police officer hollered over the side of the bridge. Bex looked over to see what they were looking at. A group of SCUBA divers.

One of them shouted "No! Nothing!" back at the officer, who frowned and shook his head.

"Excuse me," Dean greeted, stepping up to them. "Federal Marshals. We have a couple questions." All three siblings flashed their badges.

The sheriff gave each one a once-over. "Aren't you a little young to be Federal Marshals?"

"Thanks," Dean answered with a cheeky smile. "That's awful kind of you."

"Do you usually work in groups of three?" the other asked.

"He's new," Bex said immediately while pointing to her twin. "They want him working with two people while he adjusts."

"I've never seen a new guy working with two people," the sheriff remarked. Bex opened her mouth, but no words came out.

Dean suddenly interrupted. "You did have another one like this, correct?"

The sheriff nodded. "Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that."

"So, did you know the victim?" Bex asked. Coming up with lies was somewhat difficult, but once she got down to the interrogation, it was all second-nature.

"Yeah. Town like this—everybody knows everybody."

"And there were no signs of struggle?" she continued.

"None. No footprints, no fingerprints. Spotless. It's almost too clean."

Bex frowned at that. Weird. Weird enough to be something right up their alley.

"Any connection between the two victims?" Sam asked. "Besides that they were both men, I mean."

Bex listened to their conversation as she inspected the car. Blood splatters on the front window. There were tire marks on the road, as if the driver had been trying to stop the vehicle from swerving out of control. The officer had been wrong about signs of struggle.

"None, as far as we can tell," the officer responded.

"What's the theory?" Sam continued. Bex bent over to look under the car. The officer's voice became muffled, but she could still understand the conversation.

"Honestly? No idea. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?"

"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys," Dean remarked cheekily. Bex straightened up so fast that she almost hit her head on the car's mirror.

She stared, agape, at her brother. _What the hell is he thinking?_ Was he trying to get them caught? Did he _want_ to spend the rest of his life in jail? Sam shifted suddenly and Dean grunted in pain.

"Thank you for your time. We'll be going now," Bex said. She tugged Sam's jacket sleeve and the three walked away. As soon as they were close to the end of the bridge, Dean smacked the back of Sam's head.

"What was that for?" Sam cried incredulously.

"Why'd you step on my foot?" Dean demanded.

"Why are you insulting police officers?" Bex snapped.

"Come on. They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find Dad we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves."

"They're not _supposed _to know what's going on, Dean!" Bex nearly shouted. What did Dean expect? Not everyone was raised in a car going town to town. Some people had roots. Some people had normal lives. "Is everything just a joke to you?"

Dean and Bex stared each other down for a moment before Sam cleared his throat and pointed over their shoulders. "Guys…?"

Slowly, Bex turned her head to the side. She was terrified of what she might find. A man with a knife? Real federal marshals?

Close, but not quite.

Before her eyes were two intimidating FBI agents and another police officer. All three gave her a once over, and she realized that government workers probably didn't dress in ketchup stained tank tops and jeans with gaping holes in the knees. Or boots. They probably didn't wear boots either.

"Can I help you?" the Sheriff asked.

"No sir, we were just leaving," Dean returned smoothly, saving Bex from floundering. "Agent Mulder, Agent Scully," he said as the agents passed by him.

The Winchesters hurried off towards the car. "Where to next?" Bex grumbled, leaning over and retying her boot laces.

"Well, Sheriff said that the guy had a girlfriend looking for him," Dean answered.

Bex got a sinking feeling in her stomach. Chances are, the guy was gone. The two of them would probably never see each other again.

_But __you can stop it_, she reminded herself as she looped the laces around one another. _Before anyone else gets hurt_. That was the way every case was. Someone usually had to die to get their attention, but the Winchesters tended to take stupid risks to make sure that no more lives ended.

Standing up, Bex cracked her neck. "So we talk to her and see what she knows."

"Exactly," Sam finished. He looked to oblivious, so innocent with his hands tucked into his pockets and his hazel eyes zeroed in on the floor.

Bex took this as an opportunity.

With a sudden burst of speed, she rushed around the side of the car and pulled open the passenger door. "Shotgun!" she declared, dropping her ass on the seat. "Ha!"

Sam's eyes widened with surprise and he rushed over. Frantically, Bex slammed the door shut and locked it. "Hey! No. I already called it," came her twin's muffled protests. He slapped a fist against the window, and Bex could sort of hear Dean's scolding through the walls of the car.

Slowly, she opened the window and leaned out. With a smirk, Bex returned, "And you got it. Last night." Sam glared at her. His eyes narrowed and he made a bitchface. _Oh please. _When Sam failed to intimidate her, he switched gears, instead playing the younger brother role and making puppy eyes. _That's not going to work either. "_Nope. Backseat, Sam."

Giving up, Sam tugged open the door to the backseat. Bex watched in the rearview mirror as he tried to adjust to the small space and lack of legroom. Dean opened the door leading to the driver's seat and placed the key in the car. Sam was still struggling as the Impala pulled away from the curb.

While they were driving, Bex wracked her brain, trying to come up with any possible connections. One hand tapped anxiously against her thigh and the other was propped up on the window to support her head. The victims were both men, but…different ethnicities, different sizes, ages. What did all the men have in common?

Nothing. They had nothing in common.

Bex pursed her lips in thought. Since _it_—whatever it was—was rooted in one place, it was probably a spirit, but why wasn't there a pattern in the victims?

It had been killing consistently for the past twenty years. Only men, same stretch of highway.

But maybe…it wasn't something you could see by looking at them. Maybe it was something personal—they'd all killed someone or gone to the same high school or gotten married in the same place. This meant more research.

At least Sam was around.

She may have gotten used to searching through website after website, thumbing through books and articles at local libraries, but that didn't make it any more enjoyable. It was still boring and it still took forever.

Bex looked out the window and noticed that Dean was pulling up in front of a diner.

"That's her," Dean stated, pointing to a girl hanging up posters.

"What's the plan?" Bex asked.

"I'll go talk to her," Sam offered. He looked desperate to get out of the backseat.

"That's probably a good idea," Bex admitted. She would no doubt look like a fish out of water during the conversation and Dean wouldn't be able to turn off his "charm" around a breathing female.

Sam opened the car door and left, heading across the street. Bex watched him interact with the girl for a while until Dean interrupted.

"What were you and Sam fighting about this morning?"

_Crap_. Bex gnawed on the inside of her lip. As much as she hated to admit it, Sam was right. Finding dad was important to Dean. "Just…stupid stuff," she mumbled. "Y'know. Twin stuff."

Dean glared at her. "Don't give me that twin crap, Bex. What's going on?"

"Nothing," she insisted. _Wow. Even I don't believe that. _Despite that, she continued speaking. "Nothing's going on. It was just an argument."

"'Bout what?" he pried.

"About nothing." Would he give it up already?

"You can't argue about nothing, Bex." _Oh gee. Thanks. You're a real Einstein, Dean. _

She couldn't argue with that, so instead she changed the subject. "Why do you care?"

Dean gave her a look. "You're my little siblings. I gotta make sure you're both okay."

At this, Bex instantly softened. He hadn't been trying to annoy her—just look out for her. She fidgeted a little. "We were arguing about him leaving," she admitted in a voice so small she could've sworn it wasn't hers.

Dean leaned back in his seat. "I know you took it really hard. You two were close, y'know? Best friends."

"Yeah," Bex whispered. "I don't know. I was just in shock or something. One second we're all chummy and whatever, the next he's talking about marrying his girl and buying a house."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean said, holding up a hand. "He said something about getting _married?_"

Bex shook her head. "I mean—no. He didn't. But…Dean, they've been together for a while. She seems like a great girl." Before she could stop herself, she added, "and Sam would do anything to get away from us."

"Hey," Dean interrupted. "He's here now. Let's enjoy it, okay? We'll find dad, maybe you two can start...emailing each other or whatever. I don't know. Fix your relationship or something."

"Yeah," Bex answered, staring at the dashboard. Slowly, a smile tugged on the edges of her lips. "Maybe we could—"

The backseat door opened and Sam sat down inside. "So that was Amy and her friend Rachel. Apparently there's a lot of lore about a woman that was murdered on the Centennial." He gave Dean and Bex knowing looks.

"Alright," Dean said, pulling out his key. "Let's check it out."

Once they arrived at the library, the Winchesters split up. Sam and Dean fought over the computer while Bex flipped through archives and newspapers. They didn't give much information until she stumbled upon a report about a woman named Constance Welch.

"What the…?" she muttered to herself as she scanned it. Constance had committed suicide. It hadn't been a murder at all.

She looked up, then back down at the paper. Her brothers were across the library, still on the computer.

After collecting her stuff, Bex headed over and dropped the article in front of them. "It wasn't a murder. It was a—"

"A suicide?" Dean interrupted.

"Yeah."

Sam began reading aloud. "_Constance Welch committed suicide after finding her kids dead in her bathtub._"

Oi. Poor woman.

Well, it was definitely a spirit then. But neither article explained the connection between the victims.

"So…are we going to check it out then?" Bex asked.

"Tonight, after dark," Dean decided. "But I'm hungry. We're stopping for food first." -

It didn't take long to locate a diner in Jericho. The town was so small that you could probably walk the entire perimeter in a day.

At the diner, Dean devoured a cheeseburger while Sam stuck with a salad. Bex had a tuna salad sandwich, and while it was a little too oily and the fish kept falling out of the slices of bread, it did make up for her skipping dinner the night before and only having chips for breakfast.

Still, even though she was being fed, Bex couldn't help but think the meal was awkward. The tension between all three could be cut with a knife and served with fudge.

Plus, her whole talk with Dean about her feelings left her feeling open and vulnerable. Like being naked. Exposed.

When the awkward air made it too hard to breathe, Bex blurted out, "So her children both drowned in the bathtub?"

Sam nodded looked up from his salad. "Yeah. Both of them. She went downstairs for a second, and when she came back up, they were dead."

Bex nodded slowly, as though in thought. "Well that's weird." Chew. Swallow. Repeat. She finished her sandwich and waited for one of her brothers to say something to fill the gap in the conversation. Neither did. "So…um…"

"Can I get you guys anything?" the waiter cut off. "More soda? Some dessert?"

Bex was glad that someone had finally broken the seemingly endless silence. "I'll have a slice of apple pie," Dean ordered.

Bex looked at the desert menu standing between the ketchup and the mustard. She picked it up and scanned the scarce amount of options. "I'll have a brownie."

"Ice cream?" the waiter asked.

"No thanks," she replied.

"Alright. Let me clear these for you," he offered, taking all the empty plates.

Bex sat back in her chair and sighed. It was going to be a long time until Monday.

Bex opened the door to the Impala and got out of the car, surveying the area. They were back at the bridge—same place where Constance killed herself, same place where Troy died.

"So this is it," Bex remarked. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her old black hoodie.

"Do you think dad was here?" Sam asked.

"Well, he's chasing the story, and we're chasing him," Dean answered.

Bex stepped away from her brothers and started looking around the bridge. The police may have cleared the scene, but the tire marks were still on the ground. She squatted and ran her fingers over them, trying to trace where they led.

"I told you—I have to be back by Monday," Sam's voice announced. Bex rolled her eyes. _As soon as he comes back, we're all fighting_, she thought to herself, annoyed.

"You will," she called to him. "Chill. We'll get you back by Monday."

The words that had slipped out of Bex's mouth felt like lies. They had the same bitter taste and they made her stomach sink in the same way.

Or maybe she just wanted them to be lies.

Maybe she was so jealous of Sam that she wanted him to become entrapped in this world. Maybe she wanted him to stay, wished with all her might that he wouldn't go back.

_Stop. _

It was then that Bex realized that her eyes were damp. Furiously, she wiped at them with her sleeve. _You're being a baby. You're being a bitch. Stop it. _

"What are you going to do?" she asked as she stood up. Her voice sounded a little thick, maybe she could hide it. Talk louder. Speak as if she were angry. Say things so dramatic that they would distract from the way they were being spoken. "Become a lawyer? Start a white-picket-fence life? Have two-point-five kids?"

Sam's brow furrowed. "Maybe. Why not?"

_You're abandoning your family. How could you? How could you leave like that? How could you run away? You were my best friend. You're my brother. I need you. I needed you and you just walked away. You ran away. You deserted me. You left—_

—without me.

He left without her.

_Why not? _Sam's voice rang in her ears, echoing through her thoughts.

Bex bit her lip to keep it from quivering. She slammed her eyelids shut.

_Why not? Why not? Why not? _

She opened her eyes. Bex couldn't find an answer.

A few moments passed, and Dean finally piped up. "You know, she's right. Does Jess know what you've done? Who you are?"

Bex put her hands on her face and wiped at the tears before they could spill. Every time she pulled her palms away, more of them would form. She was having a breakdown.

_You're being a baby. This is stupid. Stop crying_, she chastised herself.

"No. And she never will."

"Well, that's healthy," Dean remarked. "You can't hide from your past, Sam. You can't hide from who you really are."

"And who's that?" Sam challenged, eyes narrowed.

"One of us!"

_ Us. Us and them. Us and him. He's not part of this anymore. The Sam you knew is gone. _

"I'm not like you!" Sam swore. "This isn't going to be my life."

"You have a responsibility!" Dean argued.

Turning away from her brothers and towards the car, Bex tried to calm down. _Breathe. Stop crying. Stop. Just _stop_. _

"To what? Dad's crusade?" Sam asked as if the whole idea was ridiculous.

"Yes!" Bex whipped around, tears flowing freely down her face. "Yes, you do. You do have a responsibility. To this family."

Maybe if she screamed loud enough, he'd decide she was right.

"You do have a responsibility!" Bex reiterated. "She was your mother too!"

Sam snorted. "If it weren't for pictures, we wouldn't even know what she looked like!"

Bex stared, dumbfounded at her brother, which gave him the opportunity to continue speaking.

"What difference does it make if we find the thing? Mom's gone. She's never coming back."

Flashes of the letters filled Bex's mind. Memories of hunts.

Deep down, she believed Mary was listening. She'd always hoped that her mother was there.

She felt like such an idiot.

Of _course _Mary wasn't there. Of course she had been talking to a wall this whole time.

If course it had all been a waste.

Dean grabbed Sam's collar, suddenly, whirling him around and pinning him to one of the bridge's beams.

"Don't talk about her like that," Dean hissed.

Bex looked away from her brothers to find a beautiful woman standing on the edge of the bridge. "Wait!" she called, new determination building up inside of her. "Look."

Dean released Sam and turned to look at the woman. All three seemed too stunned to move. She took a single step forward, falling away into the air.

Bex, snapping out of her trance, rushed to the edge, gripping the side with both hands.

"Where'd she go?" Dean asked from behind her.

"I have no i—"

Bex cut herself off as the lights in the Impala switched on.

"Please tell me you left the keys in the ignition," Bex asked, eyes glued on the vehicle. She knew it was most likely _not _the case, but that didn't stop her from trying.

Just as she feared, Dean pulled his keys out of his pocket. The engine started.

And then the car began to move.

Bex grabbed Dean's sleeve and tugged. "Run."

* * *

**A/N:** Ahhhh…cliffhanger! I'm sorry this chapter took so long! I've been so busy this week. Ugh. Thank you all for your wonderful support.

And now…fic recs!

**_Riley Carter Harvelle-_ Marloweee1856**

_Riley Harvelle, a smart, young, devious hunter takes over her father's "business" after he dies on a supposed hunt. She now travels the world and works at her Aunt Ellen's roadhouse part time. After a trip to England, she comes back home to the roadhouse and finds the famous Winchester brothers there. This should be interesting... (Set in season two)._

Seriously. I read the whole thing in one night. You should too*. And please make sure to leave the lovely author a review! This story deserves buckets of love. It's so well written.

*Disclaimer: If you want. I am not forcing you to, and am thus not responsible for any consequences inflicted due to you staying up all night reading (i.e. failing that test, not finishing that thing your boss wanted, oversleeping, etc.) Actually, it would be better if you just blocked out some time to read this really great fic. (If you have an SPN fic you want me to read/review, let me know! I might even rec it J).

**_Little Red-_ bluepenquin1998**

_Scarlett Winchester knows that her family isn't normal, they hunt things that go bump in the night for god's sake. However, as the search continues for their father, odd things begin to happen, that show that the Winchesters aren't normal, even for hunters._

SCARLETT IS QUEEN OMFG. Honestly, she's so well developed, so unique, so so interesting, and you should definitely read her story and shower her creator with love. Little Red is a really great story.

Make sure you check both of them out!

**Please review. I'd love it so so much. :D**


	3. The Woman in White

**A/N: **I'M TERRIBLE I KNOW SORRY SORRY SORRY IT'S BEEN ALMOST THREE WEEKS.

I want to dedicate this chapter to **prettypanda117**. She's having some trouble with depression, and if you guys can go to her tumblr/story and shower her with affection that would be great.

REPLIES:

**prettypanda117: **Ahhh thank you! She will be happy. Eventually. Once she admits it to herself and the Winchesters have a share-your-feelings talk.

**Marloweee1856**: Bah this is going to sound really weird but I'm kind of glad that you got all riled up? Like I'm happy that I made you care about the characters. Sam will stop being a douche. At some point. In the future. And thank you! You're too kind. ;)

**bluepenquin1998: **I knowwww poor Bex. And they will be acting more civil towards each other soon. After that, stuff will happen and _then _they'll officially make up.

**Mayrem: **Thank you! I'm so glad you like Bex. And I've been reading your sisfic—it's so good!

**January Lily: **It's no problem! You didn't take long at all! Growing up without a mother must be really hard. Your message was really encouraging. I'll definitely reach out if I need any help! You can always do the same for me too!

* * *

**Word Count: **

**Warnings: **Very very brief mentions of incest (just one line by Dean), some violence, misogyny (blech I hate writing that stuff but yes it is here), language, of course.

_"No adultery is bloodless" _ –Natalia Ginzburg

Chapter Three: _The Woman in White_

Bex took off at a full sprint. She could hear the Impala's engine roaring as it zoomed closer and closer. The cold night air felt bitter in her lungs, passing through her dry mouth.

A gust of wind blew her hood off of her head.

Blood rushed through her ears as her feet pounded tirelessly against the bridge.

"We have to jump!" Sam shouted from behind her.

There was no time to argue. No time to debate whether or not this was a good idea. So Bex gripped the side of the bridge with fists clenched so hard she thought her bones might break, and threw herself over. She was airborne for a terrifying second before gravity did its work. The weight of her body snapped at her arms and the grip she had on the rod slipped the slightest bit.

Sam too hurled himself over the side of the bridge, reaching out and catching the side just in time. Dean, however, wasn't too lucky.

He hit the surface of the water with a splash.

Bex's body was shaking, both from the anger and sadness left behind by her conversation with Sam and the fear of being killed by Dean's car.

Cautiously, Sam reached out an arm and pulled Bex towards him, just to stop her from swinging back and forth.

A body washed up on the riverbank and a sick feeling made its way into Bex's stomach. Dean wasn't dead—Dean couldn't be dead. Dean was a great swimmer.

_But the river moves fast. He could've been pulled under. _

Oh god. That was a terrifying image—Dean's body being pulled under, tossed around like a tree in a tornado, and spit back onto land, lifeless and cold. Bex mentally pinched herself. Dean was going to be fine.

The body coughed and sputtered a little bit and Bex grinned with relief. "Dean!" she hollered down. "You okay?"

Dean, who was covered in mud, looked up. "Oh yeah. I'm super." He accompanied the false statement with an A-OK sign.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked his sister.

Bex nodded. She didn't want to feel like she owed Sam anything, but she also didn't really want to pull away from his grip. Her arms were starting to become numb and by the way Dean looked, swimming didn't seem like such a great idea at the moment.

Once the three siblings had collected themselves atop the bridge, Dean made sure to check that his car was okay before he unleashed his wrath upon the night air.

"That Constance chick—what a _bitch!_" he shouted into the darkness.

Bex rolled her eyes at Dean's antics and leaned against the Impala's hood. She was unsure of where she stood—her meltdown had left her emotionally drained, but it seemed insignificant after having to run from a possessed car. So she swallowed the lump in her throat and held her head high. Her feelings were irrelevant right now.

"She doesn't want us meddling here, that's for sure," Sam remarked.

"Where to now?" Bex followed up.

Both twins turned to look at their older brother, who was trying to get the mud off of his hands.

"God, you smell bad," Bex complained.

Dean slid his gaze in her direction in a manner so menacing that Bex wanted to grab her gun. He looked like he was about to attack, but thought the better of it at the last second.

"We're going to a motel. I need a shower."

* * *

**November 2, 2005**

Bex dropped the credit card on the counter of the motel's front desk. "One room."

She was beyond exhausted, and more than anything, she just wanted to lie down and sleep for a few hours. It had been a long day. And a long night. And a long morning too, she supposed, since according to her watch, it was five a.m.

"Is this a family reunion?" the desk clerk asked, interrupting her thoughts. He was staring at the piece of plastic with a furrowed brow, and for a second, Bex was worried he had realized they were running a scam. Had John been caught? No. That didn't make any sense. The police would've sent out a warrant for his kids—put up WANTED posters around town. Or he would've used his phone call to contact them…right?

Bex looked down at the card, trying to appear casual and nonchalant. "Um…what?" she asked him.

"We had another guy check in earlier. Bert…I think? Came in and bought a room for a whole month."

Bex's eyes widened immediately. "Where? Which room?"

The clerk shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't share that information."

Bex scowled and clenched her jaw. Dammit. Why couldn't he just suck at his job for once?

"Can we have a minute?" Dean asked.

"Sure," the guy said. He started helping the other people in the lobby, two women holding hands.

Dean grabbed Bex's arm. He gave a swift, sharp, tug, and she followed him to the corner of the lobby. Sam followed behind them. They all huddled together, like a football team during a time-out to figure out plays. Bex supposed that was what they were doing—deciding on their next move.

"We've gotta get the room number." Dean announced.

"Oh really?" Bex retorted. Leaning away from their little huddle, she folded her arms over her chest. "You mean we can't just break into every room until we find the one that Dad's staying in?" she snapped sarcastically. It was becoming difficult to move her eyeballs without shooting pain in her head.

With a scowl and a _please shut up Bex I'm trying to plan here _look, Dean continued speaking. "Bex, you distract him."

"What?" she exclaimed. "Why me? Why not Sam?"

"Because _Sam _is going to stand in front of the cheap camera over there," Dean explained. He gestured subtlely to a camera in the corner. Bex couldn't imagine what it was for—who would waste their time robbing a place like this?

"Do I have to?" Bex asked.

"Yes," Dean answered.

"What am I supposed to do?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know. Use your woman powers to distract him."

_Really, Dean? Woman powers? _"The hell do you think I am? A black widow?" Her brother was ridiculous sometimes. He should go flirt with the damn manager if he wanted it this bad.

"I don't know," Dean said defensively. "You're my sister, I don't think about these things."

Letting her head fall back, Bex groaned quietly. "_Fine. _Fine. Let's go."

Sam headed over to his position and casually stood directly in front of the camera. Dean aligned himself with the counter and Bex stood awkwardly while the next guest was being helped.

Once the woman left, Bex stepped forward. "Hi, um…" She leaned forward, resting her elbow on the desk and leaning forward in a pathetic attempt to show off cleavage, despite the fact that she was wearing three layers of clothing. _Why am I doing this? _she wondered to herself. "What's your name?"

If she were watching the scene from afar, she would've punched herself in the face.

Hell, she wanted punch herself now.

Her gaze flicked over to Dean, who was putting his head in his hands. He looked so disappointed. With all the flirting he did in front of her, he must have hoped that Bex grasped onto basic knowledge of how to distract someone.

Wait. She didn't have to flirt. She just had to distract him.

"_Fire!" _she shrieked, pointing behind the man. Frantically, she jumped from one foot to another.

"What? Where!?"

"There! Right there!" she kept screeching, pointing at the wall.

_You look like an idiot_.

_No shit, Sherlock. _

Great. Now she was talking to herself.

"I don't see anything," the man said.

"Well _look closer!" _

He did. _He's not a bright one_. If there was ever a fire, a good rule of thumb was to not stick your face into it. Bex had learned that from logical thinking, not experience, but to each their own.

Dean stepped forward and ran his finger down the roster of names and hotel rooms. He flipped past pages, and Bex continued screaming.

"Ohmigod! Please! Put it out! _Put it out!_"

Dean tapped his finger and drew it across the margins. _Got it, _he mouthed. Bex dropped her arm and forced a nervous laugh.

"Oh gosh. I'm sorry. It was just…uh…the lightbulb."

The man stood up. He looked disgruntled and skeptical. _Not like I can blame him for that_. "The lightbulb?"

Bex hated how stupid she sounded, but she nodded none the less. Thankfully, Dean swooped in and pulled her away. "Yup, silly her, you know, _women." _

The guy looked more understanding, and Bex balled her hand in a fist, fully prepared to knock a few teeth out of someone's mouth. The desk clerk smiled reassuringly though. "Yes. I do."

"Thanks. Sorry about that," Dean apologized. Sam guided Bex out of the building and towards stairwell. As soon as they were out of sight, Bex punched Dean as hard as she could in the stomach. "Ow!" he grunted, followed by a curse. "Dammit!" The sounds of pain echoed through the hollow room.

"_Women? _Really? That's not a goddamn explanation, Dean."

"This never would've happened if you knew how to _talk to people!_" Dean defended.

"It never would've happened if you hadn't asked me to _flirt,_ either!"

"We needed a distraction!"

"Next time, _you can be the distraction_. Okay, Dean? _You can be the freaking distraction!_"

"Fine!" he shouted, waving his arm around.

"Good!" she snapped.

"Uh…guys…what room are we in?" Sam interrupted. Bex blew out a breath and pushed her curls back with her hands. She just wanted to sleep. It had been over twenty-one hours and even though she was used to long nights, the stress from Sam's return and John's unknown status was taking its toll.

"14," Dean answered.

After locating the room and picking the lock, Bex stepped inside.

With the curtains drawn, it was near impossible to see anything—the only thing that Bex could see clearly was that looked lived-in. He must have been holed up inside for a long time.

Bex switched on a lamp and took in the room fully.

Lining the walls were pictures, maps, photos, newspaper clippings. A half-eaten burger sat on the desk next to a stack of books. The discarded piece of food was covered in mold.

The room was a portrait of chaos, a complete mess.

"Whoa," Sam remarked.

"Uh…yeah."

Looking down, Bex noticed the various protective measures—salt lines, cat's eye shells—and, pointing at them, announced, "He was worried. He didn't want something to get inside."

_What was he trying to keep out?_

Dean bent over to sniff the burger. He recoiled almost immediately, using the back of his hand to knock it into the trashcan. John obviously hadn't been here in a few days.

Bex began running her finger past the papers stuck to the walls. On the other side of the room, Dean was doing the same thing. "I got it," he announced. "I know what we're hunting."

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"Woman in White." Dean poked the various newspaper clippings and sheets of paper.

His younger siblings rushed over to give the wall a look. Bex remembered John teaching her about Women in White. They were spirits with particularly tragic pasts. In their human lives, they would find out that their husbands were cheating on them, go temporarily insane, murder their children, and then kill themselves because they couldn't handle the guilt.

"So we need to find her husband," Bex deduced. "And confirm this with him."

"We'll go talk to him later," Dean decided. "I need to shower and I want food."

He headed off towards the bathroom. Bex sat down on one of the beds, moving some stuff out of the way. Sam sat down on the chair.

"So—" he began.

"I'm gonna take a nap," Bex interrupted. "Wake me up when Dean's out."

When she closed her eyes, there was a whisper in the back of her head.

_Coward. _

She squeezed her eyes shut even tighter and fell asleep.

* * *

After showering, Bex threw on her old clothes and opened up the door to the bathroom. Clouds of steam and water vapor billowed out, spreading a kind of humidity into the room. She dried her hair with a towel and the temporarily straightened locks squished between the fabric.

"We need to go," Sam announced from his position shoving various books and clothes into his bag.

"What? Why?"

"The police just took Dean."

_And they're coming for us. _

Bex bit her lip. "Alright, lead the way."

The twins slipped out the door just in time to see Dean pinned onto the hood of a car.

"Can you drop me off somewhere?" Bex asked, trying to form a plan in her head.

Sam turned to look at her. "Why?"

"I'm gonna get Dean out of jail. And you can't drop me off in front. So I'll call 9-1-1 and walk over there. Where should we meet you?"

"The diner from earlier," Sam decided. He pulled the Impala over to the side of the road. As Bex got out of the car, he touched her forearm. On instinct, she jerked away. "We need to talk about this, Bex."

"No, we don't. We don't need to talk about it." she insisted. "Everything's fine."

"Bex…"

"Sam…" she mimicked his tone mockingly. _He's not the bad guy. It isn't his fault that he got what he wanted. You should've fought for it. You should've tried harder. _"I gotta go." She slammed the door to the car and began walking down the street. The Impala drove past her and she watched it as it sped off towards Mr. Welch's house.

Bex headed over to a payphone and dropped in a quarter. Three beeps came out of the speaker as she hit the nine once and the one twice.

"_9-1-1, what's your emergency?" _

"I'm at Rosen St. and there's someone shooting nearby."

"_Ma'am, I need you to stay calm. Do you have a car?" _

"Yes," Bex fibbed.

"_I want you to get in your car and lie on your stomach on the floor of the backseat. I need you to remain calm, okay? I'm sending squad cars to your location." _

"Okay."

_ "Can you stay on the line?" _

Bex slammed the phone back onto the hook and began speed-walking the direction of the police station. Six or so police cars drove past, sirens ringing and lights flashing. As soon as they were far enough away, she broke into a jog and then a sprint.

When she arrived at the police station, she ran right into Dean.

"Oof," she grunted, stumbling back. "Well this is disappointing. I was looking forward to rescuing a dude in distress."

"Oh, well, I have to apologize," Dean retorted, playing along. "Where's Sammy?"

"He went to go talk to Welch's husband."

Just then, Bex's phone began to ring. She dug it out of her pocket and put it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Bex? Did you get Dean?"

After a subconscious glance at her older brother, Bex answered, "Yeah, I'm with him right now."

"Great. Well, I talked to her husband."

"And?"

"And he _was _unfaithful. So this is definitely a Woman in White."

"Awesome," Bex muttered sarcastically.

Sam continued. "She's buried behind her old house, so that must have been Dad's next stop."

Dean poked Bex and mouthed _what'd he say?_

"Hello?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," she answered. "Just a second."

She pulled the phone away from her ear and put it on speaker.

"I'm on my way there now," Sam informed them.

"Where?" Dean barked protectively.

"To Constance's house. Where she was buried. You know, I still can't figure out why Dad wouldn't have—"

"Sam, Dad's gone."

Bex's attention snapped to Dean. "What?" she and Sam asked in unison. "What do you mean, Dad's gone?"

"He's not in Jericho."

Dean pulled a leather book out from under his jacket. Bex recognized it immediately—Dad's journal. It didn't make sense, though. John never went _anywhere _without his journal. It was practically a lifeline. Just like Bex's journal was for her. John's journal wasn't so much of a diary, though, just thoughts, a stream of consciousness and detailed, thought out notes on various supernatural creatures. It could probably be published into a _how-to _guide for beginning hunters.

"I have his journal," Dean told Sam.

"He never goes anywhere without that thing."

"He did this time."

Dean flipped the journal open to a page where **DEAN **was written in block letters, followed by two numbers. Coordinates.

"He left us coordinates, Sam," Bex informed her twin.

"To where?"

"Hell if I know."

Suddenly, the sound of screeching tires could be heard from the phone, followed by a string of curses.

"Sam?" Bex asked, unsure of what had happened. Maybe he'd just swerved around a lost animal or something. "Sam!" she repeated when he didn't answer.

Dean and Bex looked up at each other at the same time. "Dammit!" Dean growled. "Let's go."

The siblings ran out into the street and hotwired the first car they could find. Dean drove as fast as he could down the Centennial, muttering to himself all the while.

* * *

Bex's heart was racing. She'd called Sam eight times already and he had yet to pick up. The sound of his voicemail greeting was becoming increasingly frustrating.

_Hi, you've got Sam. Leave a message. _This was followed by the faint sound of Jess's voice in the background.

Bex groaned and tossed her phone carelessly on the floor. If Sam wasn't picking up his phone, it meant he was in trouble, it had before he left, and unless he'd decided to start ignoring calls for fun in the last four years, she was going to assume it still held true.

"There," Dean called, stopping the car in front of a dilapidated old house. The rotting wood and spider webs made its abandonment evident.

Dean pointed to the Impala, where a hideous creature was straddling Sam, digging her nails into his chest. Bex pulled out her gun and took aim at the spirit through the open window. Constance flickered out but returned moments later.

By then, Dean and Bex had both hopped out of the car and were shooting at her. It was cold, but the adrenaline kept Bex from shivering. Blood pumped through her veins, and it was the only thing she could hear besides the gun and her own ragged breathing.

She needed Sam to be safe.

Sam seemed to disagree, though, or he knew something she didn't, because next thing Bex knew, Sam was driving the Impala through the wall of the abandoned house.

Without hesitation, Dean leapt forward and burst through the door. Dust, shards of glass, and chips of wood were still settling.

"Sam!" Bex called. "Sam! You okay?"

Bex yanked the door open and Sam got out. Constance was now outside the car, running a thumb wistfully over a picture frame. Dean lifted his pistol.

The dining room table flipped onto its side and flew towards the Winchesters. The edge hit Bex right below the ribs and she sputtered while trying to recover from the blow. "God_dammit!_"

"Shh!" Dean hissed, pointing to the top of the stairs. Two boys stood hand in hand, and Bex was positive that they were Constance's children. Her suspicions were confirmed when they hissed, low and menacing—

"Hello, Mommy. We've been waiting."

They moved from the top of the stairs to the living room and each wrapped an arm around Constance. The woman looked terrified of the boys, who were gazing up at her with malicious smiles. The family burst into flames and disappeared, leaving only a pile of ash behind.

Once Constance was gone, her power over the table disappeared and Dean, Bex, and Sam were freed. Bex gasped a little, relieved to have been released from the confines.

"Dude, you better not have messed up my car," Dean swore.

Sam laughed a little. "C'mon. Let's go."

* * *

Bex searched through her piles of maps while in the backseat of the car. She was trying to figure out what the coordinates had meant. It had taken a while, but she had finally narrowed it down to an area in Colorado.

"Blackwater Ridge," she announced. "The coordinates lead to Blackwater ridge, Colorado. It's about six-hundred miles from here."

Bex wasn't sure what the situation with Sam was. He seemed anxious to go home, but Dean seemed to think that he would be back hunting with them.

"Great," Dean answered. "If we shag ass we can get there by morning."

Bex bit her lip with uncertainty and looked over at Sam.

"Dean," he said.

"You're not coming," Dean realized. "You aren't, are you?"

Sam looked apologetic. "You know I can't."

Bex leaned back and started flipping through the maps, hoping to distract herself. She'd caused enough trouble on this case. It was time to stop getting into fights.

"Fine," Dean answered in a voice that oozed _I'm-totally-okay-except-I'm-not_. "I'll drive you home."

* * *

Sam got out of the car when they were in front of his apartment. "You'll call me if you find him?" he double-checked.

"Definitely," Bex promised, trying to end their visit on a better note.

"Uh…I'll see you, I guess," Sam told her. He turned around and started up the stairs.

In a low voice, Bex whispered, "Goodbye, Sammy." It felt like a repeat of the night he left. The cold night breeze paired with the sense of finality gave her the same feeling.

_Jealousy_.

No. No. She felt abandoned. Her brother was leaving. She was happy for him.

_You're not. You're not happy for him. You want him stuck here. You want him dragged back into this mess. _

By then, Sam had ascended the stairs to his apartment and Bex heard the sound of a door being shut.

Even though she was grown-up and supposed to be responsible, it still stung.

* * *

Bex reached under the backseat and pulled out the familiar leather book. The pencil was still marking her page.

* * *

_Hi Mom,_

_ Things with Sam didn't work out too well. I was terrible to him the whole time. You would've been disappointed, I bet. God. No wonder he left. I couldn't survive in the world. I couldn't deal with people. Maybe it's best I stick with Dean. _

_ We're probably off to Blackwater Creek now. I thi_

.

.

.

_Jessica's dead. Sam's girlfriend is dead. She died like you did. She was pinned to the ceiling. _

_ It was horrible. _

_ I can't remember what I was going to tell you. _

_ Sam's back hunting with us I guess. He has nothing else to go back to now. _

_ So in a way I got what I wanted. _

_ I thought it would feel better, but now I want to throw up more than anything else. _

_Love,_

_Rebecca_

**A/N: **I hope that you liked the chapter. I would like it if you reviewed (seriously it would mean the world) with your thoughts. I appreciate con-crit or if you want to shower me in love than you can do that too.

I also realized that the formatting for last chapter got really screwed up so I fixed it.

ANYWAYS, the fic rec this week is going to be a bit different. It's not in the _Supernatural _fandom, but if you can handle some really weird shit, I think you might like it.

**Jurana Keri **writes _American Horror Story _fics. They're really, _really _good (but very very **disturbing**). AHS is weird. I'm not sure how many of you are used to this stuff, so imma put a list of triggers at the bottom. The stories aren't for the faint of heart, but if you can handle them, I think you'll enjoy them.

_Uplift, Red Storm, Abominations, Incubus, and Everytime, follow a bloodline of witches. It starts with Britta, a young woman from Sweden with power of levitation. She is brought to America to join a Freakshow. The next stories follow her daughter, granddaughter, and great-granddaughters. _

Triggers include:

-suicide  
-homicide  
-rape/sexual assault  
-incest  
-drug/alcohol abuse  
-gore  
-explicit sexual content  
-ableism (the entire concept of a freak show is ableist, so…)  
-transphobia (that is eventually overcome)  
-emotional abuse

Keri's OCs are spectacular and wonderful. They're pretty well-written and interesting. If you're comfortable, I definitely recommend them.

Please _**review. **_


	4. Hooked

**A/N: **This is long overdue. As are most of my updates honestly. But I hope you enjoy nonetheless. Thank you so, _so _much for the reviews last chapter. They mean the world to me.

**Replies: **

**January Lily: **Thank you so much! You are in _no way _a burden. I promise. Your review means so much and I'm really happy that you enjoy the story.  
**Avalin Rose Ellyot: **Thank you! I'm glad you like sisfics.  
**SwamAmongTheNorthernLights: **Glad you like this! Bex has been a joy to write and I'm glad that you like reading about her. And ooh I'm so glad that you're interested because I can't wait to write it.  
**snn7b: **Thank you!  
**Marloweee1856: **Ahhh thank you so much. :3 The motel scene was really fun to write and I thought I might give you something remotely humorous after all the angst and the letters. You won't believe how excited I am to introduce Matthew. He's going to have the best relationship with Bex omg.  
**bluepenquin1998: **I think you'll like the last scene *wink* And yesss Sam/Bex is so painful right now my poor babies  
**Emilia Christine: **Don't worry about it! I'm just glad that you reviewed at all. And honestly I never get tired by rambling. It's much appreciated. I'm so happy that you like Bex because she's just so fun to write. Also, I'm really glad that you like her journal. :)

You guys are the greatest honestly you're all so sweet.

**Chapter Word Count: **4,041**  
Chapter Warnings: **Biphobia (not like extreme biphobia but Bex talks about it in one of her journal entries—but the biphobia stems from the fact that she doesn't quite understand the world beyond the Winchester bubble, not that because she's actually biphobic. So what I mean is that it's unintentional on her part and not my belief.), sexual harassment, misogyny, slut-shaming (Hook Man is pretty much about a huge slut-shaming dickwad ghost so...)

_"It's not somebody who's seen the light  
it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah"  
_-"Hallelujah"

Chapter Four: _Hooked_

**November 5, 2005**

_Hi Mom, _

_ In Palo Alto. We're sorting out all of the info we have on dad while Sam grieves. _

_ I feel guilty. Sam fought us as we tried to get him out of the fire. He was screaming and shoving us away. He loved her. He fought for the life he wanted, and I just sit around and whine. _

_ There I go again. Me me me. _

_ Anyways, there's not much stuff to sort through, but I've been reading through the journal and trying to see if his voicemail was a code for something. He really likes making things difficult for us. _

_ Love, _

_ Rebecca_

* * *

**November 10, 2005**

_Dear Mom, _

_ We're in Blackwater Creek now. Apparently some guy and his friends went missing on a camping trip. Their sister is about to go look for them—probably not a good idea. Actually, it's definitely a bad idea considering what could be out there. _

_ Sam's…different. I mean, of course he's different from before he left, but even from last week he's changed a lot. He's starting to act like Dean—shoot-first-ask-questions-later. It's kind of scary. Now that I think about it, he's sort of acting like dad. You and Jess both died in the same way. He and dad are now completely investing in finding what killed you. _

_ Ironic how Sam thought Dad's crusade was stupid growing up. Now it's his crusade too. _

_ Dean says we're going to talk to the guy's sister to convince her not to go. _

_ Love,  
Rebecca_

* * *

**November 11, 2005**

_It's a wendigo. _

* * *

**November 12, 2005**

_Dear Mom, _

_ We couldn't stop Haley from going into the forest so we ended up going with her. (Hayley's the guy's sister, by the way)_.

_ The wendigo killed their guide after he shot at it. I told him not to, but he didn't listen. Sam got kidnapped by it too, which was my fault. Dean left me in charge of him and I let the thing kidnap him. It seems like whenever I'm right, people don't listen and whenever I'm wrong, people put complete faith in me. Ha. How freaking hilarious. _

_ Took a while, but we got it out. The damn thing had to be set on fire, which was really not fun. We only had two flare guns, and I missed. Thought Sam would make it—he didn't, so Dean had to save us all. I think he's mad at me for letting Sam get captured. I'm mad at myself, too. I was being careless. _

_ That Haley girl was nice, though. She was pretty too. I almost kissed her after we were out. _

_ Almost. _

_ I wonder if you would've supported that. The fact that I like boys and girls. I like to think that you'd be loving and that you'd help me understand it, or that you'd at least accept it peacefully like dad. But I'm not sure. Lawrence was a small town and Dean says that it's really conservative. But Dad once said that you didn't let yourself be influenced by the people around you. That you liked to form your own ideas. _

_ If you survived, life would be normal. Liking men and women isn't considered normal by a lot of people. So maybe I would just try and pretend that I only liked men. _

_ Rebecca_

* * *

**November 16, 2005**

_Dear Mom, _

_ Sam's been having a lot of nightmares lately. He wakes up in the middle of the night gasping. Sometimes, when we get motel rooms and we have to share one of the beds, I'll wake up and he's gone. Sometimes he disappears for hours but comes back before Dean gets up. He doesn't want to talk about it, of course. _

_ I guess it's understandable. He watched his girlfriend burn alive. _

_ Love,  
Rebecca_

* * *

**November 21, 2005**

_Dear Mom, _

_ Apparently spirits can possess bodies of water. That's fun. _

_ No. It isn't. It sucks. _

_ I almost drowned. They had to take me to the hospital. _

_ I'm mad at myself, because Dean couldn't remember what name I used for the credit card I have right now (Liz Childs) and the nurses knew something was up. He keeps saying that it's fine, but I feel like he's mad at me. Maybe I'm just mad at myself. _

_ We still haven't found Dad. I'm getting frustrated. _

_ Sam's still acting weird. _

_ Dean's just…Dean. That's nice. To have a rock. To have someone that anchors you to one spot. I know he's a complete pain sometimes, but I'm not sure where I'd be without him. _

_ Love,  
Rebecca_

* * *

**December 5, 2005**

_Mom, _

_ A demon tried to kill us on a plane. _

_ It knew about Jess. _

_ I tried to convince Sam that demons can read minds, that he was just being crazy, but the stubborn idiot wouldn't believe me. Figures. Not many people do. _

_ There I go again, throwing myself a pity-party. _

_ Then we got into a huge fight. He told me that I was being stupid and I told him that he was being ridiculous. I'm staying in a different room from him and Dean. I just need to be alone. _

_ I wish I had a mom. I wish that you were here to explain the world to me and help me up when I fall over instead of me having to try and understand everything for myself. I wish that you were here. I miss you I can't miss you because I never knew you but I wish that you were still alive. I wish that you were here. I wish I had a mom. I wish I weren't crying. I wish that you could be here to hold me now that I am. If you were alive, we probably wouldn't be in this situation._

_ Rebecca_

* * *

**December 13, 2005**

_Dear Mom, _

_ Sam and I are still fighting. I wish that he would just apologize. Or that I would just apologize. _

_ Who am I kidding? I'm not apologizing. _

_ Rebecca_

* * *

**December 29, 2005**

_We forgot about Christmas. It's almost funny. _

* * *

**January 2, 2006**

_Nothing new for New Years. Got drunk. I think I did karaoke at a dive bar but I'm not sure. _

* * *

**February 15, 2006**

_Dear Mom, _

_ Remember the urban legend about Bloody Mary? _

_ Yeah? _

_ Well, like most things, not so much a legend. We had to destroy Bloody Mary. **Bloody Mary**. She was crazy. _

_ Her name was Mary, she was a beauty queen and she wanted to be an actress or something, but anyways, she was murdered by some guy. Tried to spell his name out on the floor but he was never arrested or anything. She goes after people that are responsible for someone's death, but haven't faced the consequences. _

_ Also, Sam knew Jess was going to die. I think. _

_ Maybe Dad knew that you were going to die too. _

_ But I kind of feel bad for Sam. There were nightmares about her beforehand and he ignored them. Could've stopped it but he didn't. Must feel really guilty. _

_ I sat with him for a little yesterday. We didn't say anything, just sat. I think he's less mad at me. It's not much, but it's a step, right?_

_ Love,  
Rebecca_

* * *

**February 28, 2006**

_Hi Mom, _

_ Sam and I are sort of peaceful right now. We were joking around this morning, which was nice. I miss having him as a friend. I miss having a friend at all. _

_ Speaking of which, Sam got an email from a friend at Stanford (named Rebecca too. Yay) saying that her brother was arrested for murder. We're heading down to St. Louis now even though it's like 400 miles behind us. There's been no word from Dad recently. I'm starting to worry. _

_ The drive is supposed to take two days. I'm stuck in the backseat again. Sam and I have been switching off, but he's been bitching a lot recently and I don't want to ruin the relative peace. _

_ (I feel like I shouldn't curse in a letter to my mother. Oh well)_

_ Rebecca_

* * *

**March 8, 2006**

_Mom, _

_ It was a shapeshifter. It mimicked Dean and tried to get him arrested. _

_ We kicked his ass though. _

_ I'm happy about that. _

_ -Rebecca_

* * *

**March 10, 2006**

_Dear Mom, _

_ Chasing a lead on dad up in Boston. Rented a car. Dean wouldn't let me take baby (no surprise there). _

_ I did a background check for him and found a result matching one of his aliases up in a hotel. Not a motel. But an actual hotel. I'm not sure why he'd spend the money on that and it might not even be him, but it's better than sticking around while Sam and Dean investigate a frat house (some guy was found hanging dead from a tree and his girlfriend said the killer was invisible). _

_ Love, _

_ Rebecca_

* * *

After days of driving, Bex finally arrived at the Winston, the hotel John Winchester had been staying at. One glance at the lobby told her that jeans and her flannel shirt would stick out and draw attention, so she went shopping using a her new credit card- this one under the name Sarah Hendrix, since Liz had been reported for possible fraud.

Bex bought anything that looked like it could belong to someone wealthy. Two black dresses. Black stockings. Oversized sunglasses. Pumps (a decision she would soon regret—heels were not her thing). A large purse. A giant hat to hide her curls. Then she found a fairly clean looking restaurant and changed in the bathroom there before heading back to the hotel.

Bex walked straight to the elevator. The heels of her pumps click-clacked against the white marble of the lobby's floor. Although they hurt, she didn't show it; she stood tall and confident. Wearing a disguise made everything so much easier. It wasn't Bex talking. It was Sarah. Or Liz. Or Vicky. It was a made up character and she didn't have to feel vulnerable about anything.

The hotel lobby was even more extravagant than she'd seen from the outside. A waterfall was located to her right. It seemed to serve as a barrier between the lobby and a bar. On her left was a lounge area, filled with cream-colored furniture and bright throw pillows.

Metal doors slid open for her and Bex stepped inside, hit the button for the fourth floor, and waited as the box rose up through the building.

_Ding. _The doors slid back open to reveal a carpeted hallway and off-white walls. There were twenty or so doors and they all looked identical. She walked down the hall, checking each number until she found 423.

Bex knocked, unsurprised when nobody answered. After checking over both her shoulders to make sure nobody was looking, she bent over pulled a bobby pin out of her hair and began to work on the door.

The fact that the locks at this hotel used keys, not key cards, gave Bex some hope that John had been staying there. John had taught his kids lock-picking when they were eleven or so, but he'd never taught them about manipulating the magnetism of a key card. It's not like many people could anyways.

Bex stood up straight and pushed the door open. Like the motel a few months ago, this room was a mess. The sheets on one bed were ruffled and the sheets on the other were barely visible under all of the maps and printouts. Closing the door behind her, Bex looked around.

The only surface of the room not covered or messed up was the center on the desk. There sat a single object—an envelope.

For a moment, Bex wondered if this was the wrong room—John wouldn't write a letter, would he?

No.

But here it was. Bex stepped over slowly, trying not to break her ankles as she stepped over a stack of books. The stark white envelope stood out against the dark wood of the desk.

Running a thumb over the edge of the envelope, Bex wondered if John could have gotten far. Should the envelope give her some sort of hint, she might have been able to chase him down.

There was no more time to waste. Bex picked up the envelope off the table and flipped it over to open it. Any sort of patience flew out the window and she used her thumb to rip it open as urgently as she could. She pulled the lip off and dug her hand inside, pulling out a piece of paper.

Bex tossed the envelope to the side and unfolded the piece of paper.

_Hotel. Poltergeist. 70115. 6675 Domremy Rd. _

_I'm sorry this is so hard on you. You will find answers here. _

_Call 555-1984 for help._

"What the hell?" she asked out loud. "Oh, so you're sorry for making this goddamn hard? _Stop making this hard._" Was he actually apologizing for being difficult…_while being difficult?_ And whose number was that?

Bex braced herself on the surface of the desk and saw something etched into the surface the envelope had previously sat on top of.

_J. M. D. B. S._

She recognized her family's initials immediately. But…why would they be carved into a desk?

Too many questions. Approximately zero answers.

_I should regroup with Sam and Dean. We'll trace the number. We'll figure out what this is. _

Bex shoved the letter into her stupid oversized purse and looked around the room. There might be other hints.

She grabbed each book by its spine and held it upside down to see if any papers would fall out. Nope. Bex looked at the maps for random marks. She searched under each bed and in each drawer and checked the bathroom for clues. But she couldn't find anything.

All she had was the stupid note and the family's initials etched into a hotel desk.

* * *

A day and a half of driving later (speeding laws were just suggestions, she would swear), Bex arrived in St. Louis. She parked the rental outside of the victim's girlfriend's sorority house. A girl was sitting in the back of an ambulance wrapped in a blanket. _What the hell happened? _

"I just want to take Lori home," an older man said to a police officer.

"We understand that," the officer said. "But now Lori's connected to two murders."

_Two murders, huh?_

"Becca!"

Bex turned around and made eye contact with her twin. "Hey, Sam."

"Did you find anything?" Dean asked.

Bex nodded. "I'll show you later. What's happening here?"

Dean and Sam filled her in on the situation. The girl was the Reverend's kid and her roommate had been murdered last night. Invisible killer, just like her boyfriend. "We think it's the Hook Man," Sam informed her.

Bex laughed before noticing the dead serious looks on her brothers' faces. "You're not kidding, are you?"

"Unfortunately, no," Dean answered.

"So should we check it out?" Bex asked.

Dean gestured ahead. "Ladies first."

Rolling her eyes, Bex began walking across the street. The three of them stopped outside the back door just as two girls left the house through the side exit. Bex held her breath as they left, trying to keep from being seen. As soon as they passed, she resumed breaking into the house.

"Dude!" Dean exclaimed, backhanding Sam's shoulder. "Sorority girls. Do you think we'll see any naked pillow fights?"

While he was busy obsessing over that possibility (_possibility? More like fantasy_), Bex turned to Sam. "Can you give me a boost?" She pointed up to the balcony.

Sam grabbed her around the stomach and lifted her up. Bex gripped onto the railing and kicked her legs over. She landed safely on the other side with a thud. Dean was next to her in a few seconds, followed by Sam. Bex opened the window stuck her wiggled through, ducking her head so that she could fit.

She surveyed the room with her hands on her hips. She noted the butter-yellow walls and out of place objects that made the room look more like a home and less like a dorm. _What if I had ended up in a place like this_?No doubt she would've loved it. Friends. A home. Normal.

"Oh, sorry!"

Bex turned around. Her brothers were on top of each other and arguing.

"Be quiet!" Sam demanded.

"You be quiet!" Dean fired back.

"Both of you shut up," Bex interjected.

Footsteps sounded outside the door.

"Get in the closet!"

Bex pulled the door open and got inside. Sam and Dean squeezed in after her.

The situation was rather uncomfortable.

Opening the door the slightest bit, Bex could see a police officer circle the room before leaving. As soon as she heard him downstairs, she opened the door and stumbled forward. "Which room belongs to the dead girl?" she asked.

"If I had to guess, I'd say that one," Dean answered, pointing across to hall to the wall of another bedroom. More specifically, what was scrawled on the wall.

_AREN'T YOU GLAD YOU DIDN'T TURN ON THE LIGHT?_

"Holy—" Bex started. "So I guess that this is the urban legend Hook Man."

Dean looked around the room and frowned. "It's definitely a spirit," he remarked, tapping his nose. Ugh. Sulfur. No matter how many hunts Bex went on, she never got used to the smell.

"But why would he come here? This is a long way from nine mile road," Sam said. "Hey," he said while pointing to an elaborate design featuring a cross drawn beneath the writing on the wall. "Does that symbol look familiar to you?"

While they shared a knowing look, Bex tried to figure out what exactly they were thinking. She gave up. "What is it?"

Dean pointed over his shoulder. "C'mon. We'll show you."

They headed back to the Impala. After digging through a messenger bag, Sam produced some printouts. On one of the pages was a cross matching the symbol on the wall.

"Alright. So who is this guy?" Bex asked.

"Jacob Karns. Minister that was angry about a red-light district so he killed thirteen prostitutes." He read off of a paper: "_'_ _"some of the deceased were found in their bed, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against sins of the flesh.'"_

"Geez," Bex remarked. "So we know for sure that the guy's a complete dick. Can I see those?" Sam handed her the papers. Skimming the pages, she stumbled upon an article about the murders. "Wow. So he killed all of them with…the hook he replaced his hand with. God_damn_ this guy is a freaking _douche_. Honestly."

"Well then let's find the dude. Salt and burn the remains," Dean decided.

Plucking the research out of her hands, Sam read aloud from one of the passages. "'_Jacob Karns was laid to rest in an Old North Cemetery. In an unmarked grave.'" _

"I'm going to kill him," Bex muttered. Not only did he seem like a misogynistic asshole, but finding him was going to be a pain too. Dean opened his mouth but she held up a hand in front of his face. "No. Shut up. You know what I mean."

"Didn't say anything," he defended.

"But you were going to."

"You don't know that."

"Guys," Sam interrupted. "Stop. We need to make a plan."

"My plan is to find a party. Sam, you can go do some research."

"What about me?" Bex asked. On one hand, she didn't really want to do research. But on the other hand…parties. Parties meant people. People meant embarrassment.

Dean shrugged in response. "You can pick where you want to go."

Tensions with Sam were still running high and she figured that hanging out with him without Dean to act as a buffer was a bad idea. "Right. Well. I'll figure that out later. Let's find a diner—I'm hungry—and I can show you what I found."

* * *

"This is all he left?" Dean asked through a mouthful of burger.

"Yeah," Bex answered, putting a fry into her mouth and making a face. "I can't really believe it either. This is so _annoying_. Why is he even hiding from us anyways?"

"Maybe he's being followed," Sam said. "Maybe he can only stop for a little at a time because there's something out there."

"So he's leading it away from us?" Bex wondered out loud. "Huh. Do you think that it's the thing that—" Realizing that she was about to rather bluntly bring up Jess's death, Bex cut herself off. It was too late, though, as Sam was already looking down at his hands.

"I don't know," he answered. "But after we finish with this case, we're going after it."

"Okay," Bex agreed. "Okay."

After swallowing the last bite of his burger, Dean leaned back. "So I heard from those frat dudes that there's going to be a party tonight. Whaddya think? Hot chicks, booze."

The idea of something a normal college student would do excited Bex. But at the same time, she had no idea what to expect. Which seemed like the opposite of normal. Normal was supposed to be stable and predictable.

Might as well give it a shot, right? If things went horribly wrong, it wouldn't matter, considering they were leaving after the case.

"Sure." Dean gave her an odd look. "What?" Bex asked defensively.

"Nothing. I was just…expecting you to argue or something. You usually hate this stuff."

Shrugging, she answered, "I'm in a good mood."

Her brother didn't look convinced, but he didn't question it either.

* * *

About an hour into the party, Bex was only mildly drunk, while majorly pissed off by the number of times some sweaty nineteen year old had run by and tried to grope her chest or her ass.

The sixth guy to try and grab at her chest set her off. Bex slammed her cup down on the table and pulled her hand away before the beer could slosh over and splash her hands. She yanked the back of the retreating man's jersey and spun him around.

Winding her fist back, she punched him as hard as she could, square in the jaw.

A collective gasp rose from the crowd as the guy scrambled back. "You _bitch!_" he yelled, gripping his mouth. He spewed curses at her.

"Don't _ever_ touch me again," she snapped. She was done. It was time to leave. She just needed to let her brothers know.

"Hey!" A hand closed around her arm and yanked her back.

Someone cut the music and Bex prepared to punch him again if she needed. That was unnecessary, though, because Dean appeared out of nowhere and pinned the kid to the wall. "Don't _touch _my sister," he said, practically growing. "Leave her _alone_."

Dean pushed the kid away and touched Bex's forearm lightly. "I had that, you know," she joked, but Dean ignored her.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Bex answered, her voice wavering.

Placing a hand on each of her shoulders, Dean stopped walking. "You sure?"

"I'm fine," Bex promised. "Everything's good. What now?"

He still seemed skeptical but dropped it. " Now we find Sam, and then we find that Hook Man sonofabitch, and figure out how to kill him."

* * *

**A/N: **Review, maybe?

Fic Rec:

**_Carry on _****by prettypanda117-**_The life of a hunter requires great sacrifice. Melody Winchester must learn that lesson the hard way and it nearly consumes and breaks apart her and her small family. But...what happens when she meets a certain angel? Will he change her perspective? Give her a new purpose? Or will his presence just tear apart everything she holds dear?_

Where to start? Melody. I'll start with her. Melody is the most wonderful, fantastic, strong, gorgeous character. I just love her so much. She's developed really interestingly and has a unique set of powers that are really freaking awesome. Melody also has unique relationships with both of her brothers and her parents. And her relationship with Cas is just..._gah_. _I love them together so much. Mellstieellllll. _

GO READ IT!

(also, please review)


	5. Dreamland

**A/N: **Whoa! Long time no see, huh? Here's the new chapter, hopefully it'll make up for the long wait!

**Review Replies: **

**Guest: **I know, right! Chex all the way! (don't worry, there'll be something there ;D). Thank you for all of your compliments, they mean the world to me. I'm always so delighted to hear that people enjoy Broken Roads!  
**prettypanda117: **No problem! Your story deserves it (**Go read Carry On!) **I'm glad you're liking Bex. And I have to agree with you about the heels. Those were quite the challenge for her. Dean is sort of a jerk, but he's also such a nerd and he's a great brother. Sam and Bex will start rebuilding their relationship soon, but it'll be a painful road to get there.  
**January Lily: **Absolutely! (also fyi for everyone, prettypanda117 actually used the journals entries before me)  
**winchestertrio: **Thank you! I'm glad you liked the letters.  
**8BitCow: **Thank you! The journals are a very significant part of Bex's character. They sort of fill the space that having no mother left, y'know? As for the length of the story? I haven't really liked season 10, so I might go season 9 and then way AU, or maybe even season 8 and then AU. I'm not really sure. But at least 8 seasons. :) And omg yessss Bex and Charlie are the best! And without revealing too much, Bex will be sort of distrusting of Cas. She won't be sure about him, but they'll be close. And then they won't. And then they will. It's really bumpy for them tbh, but they do actually like each other and they fit together as friends. They just make choices that hurt each other.  
**bluepenquin1998: **Yessssss badass!Bex is one of my favorite types of Bex. I'm glad you caught the references! Partly is me being too lazy to come up with names, but I also wanted to insert them just for fun I guess? idk. Journal entries=angst pretty much. The episode "Home" is going to magnify the sadness by like 10000000%. Bi!Bex is also great. I really want to kind of depict a person that's bi, but doesn't really understand it until later on. So she knows what she is, but not really how to identify or explain it or share it with other people. She'll learn, though.

**Chapter Word Count: **4,394**  
Chapter Warnings: **Slut shaming, loss of virginity (unpleasantly; implied non-con), victim blaming

Chapter 5: _Dreamland_

**March 13, 2006**

Holding a flashlight between her teeth, Bex put her hair into a ponytail. It had been over an hour since they arrived at the cemetery and she was growing frustrated. Stupid unmarked grave. Stupid asshole ghost. Stupid frat boys.

"Found it!" came Dean's voice from the other side of the graveyard. Bex heaved a sigh of relief. Any more staring at headstones and she would've gone insane. She pulled the flashlight from between her teeth and started walking towards Dean's voice until she spotted her brother through the trees. He looked just as exhausted as her, maybe even more so. When was the last time he got sleep?

If she left, he would have one less person to look after.

But she couldn't leave. John was still missing and she had that weird note to follow.

They each grabbed a shovel and began to dig into the dirt. It would have been easier with Sam, but he had decided to stay with Lori and make sure she was okay.

Bex scooped pile after pile of grass and mud. _I never asked for this. __To have __to dig bodies out of the ground. _She had never wanted a part of this. The more she thought about it, the more she hoped that there was a reason behind her being born a Winchester. Maybe it was all going to turn out okay. Maybe there was an end to that would justify, or at least explain*, the means. Maybe it would all be worth it.

But then again, what could possibly be worth this? She had already missed a normal childhood. The chance to go to college with people her age. Was there anything that could make up for everything she'd lost?

One of their shovels hit something and the Winchesters made eye contact. "Here we go," Dean said. A little longer, and they had cleared off the top of the grave.

Bex drove her shovel down into the old wood. It split in half, and she pried it out of the way. Across from her, Dean was pulling out a matchbox.

"Let me," Bex said, holding out her hand. With a shrug, Dean tossed it to her. The logo on the front was that of a dive bar they passed through a while ago. Before Sam came back, probably. Bex lit a match and looked up to the sky, almost instinctively. Back when they were younger, she'd look at the sky to make sure that God knew that she was doing something good. Even though she knew now that there was nobody up there, she continued the habit.

And then she tossed the match into the grave. _Another case done,_ she thought, a feeling of accomplishment forming in her stomach. _More lives saved_, she was reminded. The achievement she'd felt just moments ago faded away into a wrenching guiltiness. How could she give up if her pain meant helping others? There was no time for Bex to dwell on this feeling though, because before she knew it, someone's phone began to ring. It was her phone.

Seeing Sam's number on the screen, Bex flipped the device open and said, "Hello?"

_ "__You need to come to the hospital," _Sam said, sounding panicky and out of breath.

"What? Why?" _Is he hurt? Is Lori hurt? _Her protective instincts kicked into overdrive.

But Sam just answered her questions with "I have to go," and then, true to his words, the line went dead.

"Hospital," she told Dean, who had been eying her as she talked on the phone. "Sam says we need to go now."

* * *

Her boots tapped against the tile floor as Bex stormed into the hospital. Dean was hot on her heels as she scanned the room anxiously for Sam. She spotted her little brother talking to a police officer. As Bex made a move to intercept the conversation, a different officer rushed over and stopped her.

"Ma'am, this is a closed off area," she said. Bex shook her head, brown curls swinging behind her.

"That's my brother," she said, pointing to Sam.

The officer, a short woman, turned to Sam and asked, "Do you know her?"

Sam glanced over at Bex and then back at the officer. "Yeah. She's my sister. And that's my brother," he added, gesturing to Dean.

She took a step out of the way so that Bex and Dean could pass. "You okay?" Bex asked Sam as soon as she reached him. Her hand instinctively went to his arm as she checked his face for scratches or scrapes.

"Yeah," Sam replied, making a face at being babied.

"What the hell happened?" Dean demanded, looking seriously at his brother.

"Hook Man. Why didn't you torch the bones?"

"What?" Bex asked. "We did. Are you sure it's Karns?"

"Did you see him?" Dean added.

Looking back and forth between his twin and his brother, Sam answered, "Yes and yes."

Bex blew out a breath. There must have been other remains. "So this probably means that the Reverend isn't controlling him."

With a snort, Dean retorted, "Yeah. I doubt he would send the Hook Man to attack himself."

"I think it's latching onto Lori," Sam said.

Dean sobered and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"She just found out that her dad is having an affair with a married woman. She was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, you get punished."

"Ok, so she's conflicted," Dean said. "And the spirit of Preacher Karns is latching on to repress the emotions and maybe he's doing the punishing for her, huh?"

_Man playing God,_ Bex thought immediately. It seemed all too common. She'd encountered a dozen or so cases involving ghosts who were vengeful because they deemed someone's actions immoral. Hell, she'd dealt with it from people. Living people. Not spirits, just whispers in the hallways of an anonymous high school chanting _Slut! Slut! Slut!_ as she passed by. That had been cruel enough, but the words were mere scrapes compared to Karns' form of punishment. "It makes sense. I mean, her boyfriend and roommate were pushing her, and her dad was having an affair. None of those things are really condoned by the Bible."

"But you burned the bones. We _buried _him in salt." Dean argued. "So why is he still here?"

"What about the hook?" Bex supplied. "It's the murder weapon. It's probably the source of all his power. If we find the hook…"

Her brothers replied in unison: "We stop the Hook Man."

* * *

_Eight years ago_

_Middleton, Kansas_

_Rebecca. _

_Everyone here knew her as Rebecca. It was November of her junior year, and Bex had decided to introduce herself as 'Rebecca' instead of 'Bex' on the first day. School was going as good as it could have been—she'd surprised herself by doing well in her English class, but with John out most of the time, Bex found that the only people she could announce her good grades to were her brothers. Sam was getting grades much higher than hers in an AP class, so it wasn't like she could brag, and Dean didn't care about their grades. __And even if he did care, he wasn't around to hear about it-he went out with John on hunts too frequently. _

_Five days in and Bex had successfully located a spot where she could sit during lunch. Behind the gym, she sat with a cigarette between her lips and a copy of _Jane Eyre_ resting on her lap. Two guys were sitting a few yards away, also leaning against the wall of the gym, but they were too high to notice her. _

_Bex spent day after day like this. In the morning, she would walk with school to Sam and sit next to him in homeroom, but after that, he was off to honors classes while she stuck to her regular 11__th__grade stuff. She slept through math, pretended to pay attention in chemistry, and took minimal notes in history. Usually, she skipped gym because really, running from demons and ghosts was exercise enough and she just could not play dodgeball for the third day in a row. Study hall was spent like lunch—behind the gym with a book and the two stoners. _

_But English—English was what made the day worth it. Mrs. Santos was an opinionated woman. She was strict with kids that made everything about penises and sex and she could talk about the books they were reading in such depth that you had to understand it. _

_She was Bex's favorite teacher. Someone she looked up to. Bex hadn't had a role model in a while, but she'd found one in Mrs. Santos. The only reason she actually read the books was for her. To impress her, show off before the inevitable happened and they moved on to a new town. _

_ "__Duuuuuuude," one of the stoners bellowed. The other guffawed, and Bex decided to move spots. Spend enough time with the two of them and you'd learn that as soon as one shouted "dude," they were going to start babbling mindlessly and quite loudly. _

_She packed up her books and zipped up her backpack, crushing the cigarette butt with her heel. Maybe she'd look in the library for Sam. _

_Bex set off for the building. On her way, she heard at least three people talking about a party before someone shoved an orange flyer into her hand. She looked at the writing (__**Kaitlyn's house. TONIGHT AT NINE)**__ and considered going. As she folded up the paper, she thought about how John would react. Maybe he'd stay with them more. It was a twisted thing to do, she knew. But she missed having a relationship with her dad. She missed sitting on motel beds talking about everything they'd done over a bag of chips or a can of soda. Although she murmured, "I'll think about it," to herself, she knew what was going to happen. _

_She wasn't ready to admit it, though, so Bex just straightened her backpack straps and kept walking. _

* * *

Bex opted to stay with Lori at the hospital whilst her brothers did research. The plastic blue chair was uncomfortable, to say the least, but someone needed to watch this girl before everyone she was pissed at died.

_It's not her fault_, she reminded herself, because really, it wasn't. Lori had a standard that she wanted to be fulfilled, but people were dying, and Bex wanted to keep the body count as low as possible.

Lori was sitting at her father's side and muttering unintelligible things. Bex felt a pang of jealousy. Sure, her dad had screwed up, but at least he was there. For the first time in a while, finding John was not an obligation, but something she wanted to do because she missed him. But if she found him, he was going to hold her back. Force her to stay in the family business. With Sam back, leaving had been on her mind a lot.

On the other hand, if she left now, Bex would be left wondering what happened to her dad. Dean would probably let her know if they'd found him, but she'd be stuck knowing that she abandoned the search to find him. One option left her feeling guilty for her selfishness, and the other frustrated for not being selfish enough.

"Goodbye, daddy," Lori whispered to her father before drifting out of the hospital room. Bex stood up and tugged down her tank top before following her.

"Hey," she greeted. Lori stared at her. "I'm Bex, I'm Sam's sister. He wanted me to keep an eye on you." Looking unsure, Lori fiddled with her bracelet. "I'm not gonna keep you here," Bex assured her. "I just wanna make sure you stay safe."

"And that the guy doesn't hurt anyone because of me?" she bit back. Lori's voice was thick and syrupy, remnants of her sobs.

Deciding to be honest, Bex nodded. "That too. But also to make sure that you stay safe. I'm just gonna shadow you. Y'know, until we figure this crap out."

Her fumbled answer must have made sense to Lori, because she whispered, "I'd like to go to church."

_Excuse me, what? _Bex thought. Then, she noticed the look on Lori's face and realized she must have spoken aloud. "I-it's just…you want to go to church? With everything happening?"

"I just want to ask for forgiveness," Lori explained, nearly on the verge of tears. _No, _Bex pleaded internally. _Please don't cry. _

"Um." She had her gun and her iron knife on her. Sure, she was missing salt but her bullets were filled with them. If Lori really wanted to go, it wasn't like Bex could stop her. And she pretty much had to follow the girl or else she could get into serious trouble. So, she sighed and patted her waist to check that her weapon was there, filled with salt rounds. "I guess I'll drive."

* * *

_"__I don't think it's a good idea," Sam told Bex when she held out the invite. "Dean's gonna be mad and you might get arrested or something."_

_Rolling her eyes, Bex tried to reason with her brother. "If I got arrested, chances are, Dean would be proud." _

_Lips pursed, Sam replied, "Who would even bust you out? Dad's on the wanted lists of about a dozen people." _

_ "__This is all 'what if', though!" Bex argued. "It's not like I'll definitely get arrested." _

_ "__You need to think," Sam protested. "You aren't thinking about this. I'm not even sure why you want to go. Remember the last time you didn't think something through?" Memories from various points in Bex's life flashed through her head. She shrugged, facial expression saying, _I've messed up a lot. Please specify. _"Ninth grade. Oregon. You let those girls take advantage of you so that you could be their friend." _

_"__Well excuse me, Sammy, but I needed someone besides _books _to keep me company." _

_Hurt flashed across Sam's features and he threw his arms up, nearly whacking his hand against the wall of the library corner he was hiding in. "Fine, Becca. Do what you want." _

_She didn't realize it now, but in less than twenty-four hours, Bex would regret not listening to him. _

* * *

Later, in the church, Lori sat down at a pew and clasped her fingers together, mumbling under her breath. Bex stood awkwardly in the doorway, legs crossed and lips pursed. The church was giving her the creeps, with all the little statues of Jesus and Mary and Joseph and their painted-on eyes. She was tempted to lean to the side a little to check if their eyes would follow her, but decided against it. Lori already thought she was weird.

Suddenly, Sam and Dean entered guns drawn and pointed at Lori. Bex jumped up and hit Sam in the shoulder. He, in turn, slapped Dean and they both lowered their guns.

"You brought her to the freakin' _church?_" Dean asked her incredulously.

"She wanted to come here!" Bex argued. "She's seeking forgiveness. Or something." The two looked over at her.

"Trust me, this guy's no angel," Sam assured her. The two of them continued talking and Bex turned back to Dean.

"I don't know, I couldn't stop her. Plus, I had my gun."

"_You _could've gotten hurt," he insisted, shaking his head.

"I can take care of myself."

Dean, looking aggravated, blew out a breath. "I know that you can take care of yourself. But can you take care of yourself and this girl? This is the spirit's domain. This is the _most dangerous _place you could be."

When he phrased it that way, Bex felt stupid. She should've fought Lori, taken her somewhere safe. That had been her _job_—to keep Lori safe. "I'm sorry," she said.

Dean's reply was cut off by a loud noise in the back of the church. Mere seconds later, all the candles blew out. In unison, the two of them said, "_Damn." _

Taking hold of Lori, Sam began to maneuver his way to the basement. "Come on. We gotta go." He yanked the door open and jumped when he found the Hook Man behind it. He was a disgusting spirit (though really, which ones weren't disgusting?) with stringy hair and missing teeth. He raised his hook and smiled. "Go!" Sam shouted, backing up and covering for Lori as they dashed around the aisles. Dean and Bex had already grabbed their guns and began firing so that they could escape to a room in the back of the church. The Hook Man flickered before fading away. Only briefly, though. Moments later, he was back, chasing Sam and Lori down the hallways.

"Crap!" Bex barked, running after him and leaving Dean behind to look for anything silver. The door was being held shut, so she smashed the butt of her gun against the plywood until it broke. She entered, gun raised, just in time to see Lori tossed into a wall and Sam stabbed in the shoulder with the hook. "Sam!" she cried out on instinct.

The Hook Man turned around to face her and smiled madly. He stepped forward, but Bex shot him. In the moments when he was gone, Sam went over to check on Lori. _Always the hero. _

Something whacked Sam in the head and he flew backwards, leaving the now visible spirit to tower over Lori. He ran the curve of his hook over her face. Lori became too stunned to move. She was completely petrified.

Bex shot at him again just as Dean burst into the room. "I thought you got all the silver!" she hollered.

"We _did," _Dean growled.

"You sure about that?" Bex questioned as she bent down to check on Lori. "Because he's still here."

She looked for bruises or cuts on her neck, and while she did, she felt something cool press against her palm. Bex froze and followed it to a cross around Lori's neck. "Holy crap. Lori? Where's that necklace from?"

"My father gave it to me," the girl explained. "It's a family heirloom."

"Is it made of silver?" Dean inquired.

"Uh…yeah."

Bex tore the chain off of her neck as a long scratch appeared against the wall. "Keep him busy!" she shouted to her brothers before sprinting out of the room and towards the basement. Blood rushed through her veins as her feet slammed against the ground. Throwing the door open, she gripped the stairway banister tightly in her fist. It kept her balanced as she stumbled her way down the stairs.

She found the furnace and tossed the necklace inside, watching and waiting for it to melt. When the cross broke away from the chain and began to lose its form, Bex finally allowed herself to breathe again.

_Now_ she was sure. Another life saved. Another spirit burned. Farther away than ever from what she was dreaming about.

* * *

_Dressed in the most flashy outfit she could find, Bex stepped into the party. Wispy lines of smoke drifted towards her, making it difficult to see straight. When it cleared, she found herself staring at a crowd of people holding plastic red cups. _

_Someone handed a cup to her. She didn't see who it was, or where it had come from, but she drank it. That was followed by another. And another. _

_At some point, she could remember laughing as she tripped up the stairs. A strong hand steadying her. But her memory was becoming fuzzy. _

_The feeling of itchy sheets hitting her back was the last thing she could remember in detail. They were a light purple, and they were rough against her skin. _

_Purple sheets would ruin everything. _

In a motel room miles away, Bex was running her thumb over the words from her dad's letter. It was probably another case. Maybe it would lead her to John.

Thinking back to what Dean had said earlier, she felt uneasiness settle in her stomach. His words echoed in her ears. _We make a good team, the three of us. _That had led her to question whether or not she could even make it without them.

There was only one way to find out.

She stood up from the bed—with lavender sheets that made her dizzy—and headed over to the bathroom. By the time she'd finished showering and brushing her hair, Dean was back with takeout in hand.

Bex was eager to join him and Sam for the meal. "So I've been thinking," she said through a mouthful of food. "That maybe I should go down to New Orleans."

"Okay," Dean answered, with the same table manners as his sister. "And…?"

"I think I should go alone," Bex said.

"_What?" _Dean exclaimed. "No."

"You were hunting alone when you were twenty-two!" Bex protested.

"You can't go," Dean decided. "I'm not going to let you."

"I don't need your permission," his sister spat.

"Why'd you ask?" he yelled back.

"I just thought maybe I should mention it so that you wouldn't think I went missing or something!" God, he was being so unreasonable. "I'm going."

"No, you're _not." _

"Let her go," Sam spoke up for the first time since they'd left St. Louis.

"Thank you!" Bex exclaimed as Dean roared and incredulous "_What!?" _

"Let her go." Sam got up from the desk and pulled clothes out of a duffle bag. "I'm gonna shower," he announced, slamming the bathroom door behind him.

Sitting back, Bex folded her arms across her chest. "I'm going," she told Dean, and her brother, outvoted and overpowered, didn't respond.

* * *

_She woke up with a pounding headache to the sight of lavender sheets. This wasn't her bed. The motel they were staying at had sheets that were probably white at some point, but had darkened from dirt. Bex put a palm over her face and squeezed her eyes tight. _

_Ugh. _

_Flipping her legs over, she tried to stand up, but found that she was in tremendous pain. And her underwear were missing. Actually, she was fully clothed except for her bra—on the floor across the room, and her underwear. Her skirt was flipped up, exposing her. Blood was covering the tops of her thighs. _Crap. Oh god. What had happened? What had she done?

_Bex grabbed her bra and tugged her skirt down. In the mirror, she could see that her eyes were rimmed with black and her hair was a mess. _

_Though she tried not to think of the worse-case scenario, Bex knew what had happened deep down. She'd been stupid, and now she was suffering the consequences. _

_The worst thing about it wasn't the strange look from Dean or the _I-told-you-so _painted on Sam's face. It was the way people at school looked at her. The way Mrs. Santos's smiles towards her became forced and her tone clipped. It was the disappointment or the teasing from the people that knew. _

_Of course, that night John announced that they needed to stay for a little longer than he expected. _

_The universe surely hated her now._

**A/N: **No rec this chapter :( because I'm so busy with school. I'll be out soon though, and I'll do a double-whammy next chapter.

Reviews are like hugs for the Winchesters!


	6. Lost in Time

**Word Count: **1723 words

**Warnings:** not too explicit sex stuff near the end, cursing, smoking

**Chapter 6 / Lost in Time**

_"__I have been here many times before."_ -Sia

A car like this was not suited for the type of driving that Bex Winchester was putting it through.

The brunette's little sedan seemed like it was more properly equipped for taking children to soccer practices and delivering cookies to PTA meetings, but, obviously, there was no way in hell she was going to do that.

A cloud of dust followed her as she zipped down the back roads, across the states, towards New Orleans. She was going to ruin her tires.

But if she didn't stop, Sam and Dean would catch her.

She'd left at four in the morning, abandoning everything with no notice at all, except a chaste note that read "you're not the boss of me."

In the back of her mind, Bex realized that this was likely not a good idea. Stealing a car? Definitely illegal. Running away from her brothers? Probably worse.

Bex's cellphone rang on the seat next to her. She ignored it, knowing that it would be Dean's number flashing on the screen. Or if not him, Sam's. One of the two.

So she let the phone ring, took a sharp left turn, and kept driving.

Hours passed before she realized she was low on gas. "Shit," she cursed, trying to recall if there had been a sign indicating a town anywhere around here. Nope. _Dammit_, she thought to herself with a growl, stomping her foot down in frustration.

As she vented her anger, the phone began to start ringing again, except this time, it was her dad's ringtone.

Bex yelped, reached over, and picked it up. Jamming her finger on the green answer button, she lifted the pink cell phone to her ear and said, "Hello? Dad?"

There was nothing but the soft sound of breathing on the other end of the line.

"Dad?" she asked again. Nothing. "Who the hell is this?" she demanded, voice clipped and laced with irritation. "Bitch," she muttered into the receiver before hanging up.

She'd risk the car breaking down if it meant she could keep moving forward.

Bex checked the red sharpie marks on her road map, scribbling out different detours with the cap between her teeth. A small town named Platt was coming up ahead at some point—that was good.

Switching the car out of park, Bex's tires squeaked as they rolled impossibly quickly against the broken roads of the countryside. Large cracks ran through them, robbing them of anything simple. They were almost too frayed to be useful. Too damaged.

Thirty minutes later, with the car just _barely _pushing forward, Bex drove past a desolated "Welcome to Platt!" sign.

She adjusted her speed so that she looked like less of a maniac, and then turned into the nearest gas station.

After throwing the door open, Bex dug around her bag for her wallet. Krystal something was paying today.

Bex filled the tank up all the way, and then got back into the car. Her stomach growled relentlessly, and she sighed. She couldn't afford to slow down, but she needed food. Desperately.

Hunger eventually won out, and Bex pulled out of the gas station, across the street to a crappy diner. She ordered a sandwich and fries and a bottle of water, and ate them in the car, nearly choking as she swerved violently left and right.

Her phone continued to ring, insistently, until she shut it off altogether. Bex turned the radio up full volume, blasting some cherry-sweet pop song loud enough for her to sing along and not hear herself.

If Dean knew that she memorized the words to this song, he'd probably insult her.

Bex sang louder, just out of spite.

Three hours later, she passed a road sign saying "Welcome to New Orleans."

She drove around for a bit, trying to find a hotel Dean wouldn't expect to look. The sun had just begun to set when she found a cute little inn in the heart of town. She parked the car, which was making bizarre chugging noises whenever the steering wheel turned, and grabbed her duffel bag.

When she got to the front counter, Bex stared the woman in the eyes. "Two nights in your largest available room, please."

The lady nodded pleasantly, probably to mask her surprise that the road-rager with ratty hair wanted to book the biggest room in the hotel.

Bex took the key from over the desk and headed over to the stairwell, rather than the elevator. After a long day of driving, it felt nice to move her legs.

The strap of her duffel dug ungraciously into her shoulder. Bex switched sides, heaving it over her left arm instead. The various bags of salt and omens were excruciatingly heavy.

If Bex lived in apartment and went to college she'd probably still have to carry the salt around. Her name was on a thousand monster hit-lists, and she could outrun the cops as much as she wanted, but there was no fucking way she could get rid of those supernatural bitches.

Four stories up, Bex pushed the door open and exhaled a sigh of relief. "_It'll be fun to stretch my legs_," she murmured. "_Good fucking plan, Rebecca. Way to go._"

Running a hand over her face, Bex realized how short her nails were. She'd bitten at them ruthlessly, leaving the skin around them rough and bloody. _Old habits die hard. _

In seventh grade, Bex tried a cigarette and she hated it, and she remembered health class in Alabama where they told her that her parents could tell if she'd been smoking by the color of her nails, so Bex scrubbed and scrubbed at her fingers and then she bit them, chomping on the nails until they were bleeding.

Dean had only been more suspicious at this point.

It wasn't like he cared, though. Bex was more afraid of what Sam would say. "I'm so disappointed in you, Becca," or "I can't believe you did that, Becca" or "You're going to get lung cancer, Becca."

Bex started biting her nails in seventh grade and she never really stopped.

When she reached her room, Bex pulled a key out of her pocket and unlocked the door. She threw her duffel onto the floor and exhaled a sigh, collapsing onto the bed. Every tense muscle in her body relaxed for a few blissful minutes. "Thank god," she mumbled.

She stayed like that for a bit, staring at the popcorn ceiling and narrowing her eyes. After sophomore year, she ditched her glasses and ever since Bex's vision had been slightly impaired.

Biting her lip, Bex felt a spark of rebellion light up in her stomach.

What always pissed Dean off was when Bex would go out and sleep with random guys.

Guess what she did next.

Bars were fun. Alcohol was fun. Vodka was fun.

Matthew was fun.

They talked and he bought her a drink and he was a nurse, Bex thought. Probably. He spoke with only a bit of a Southern accent, but she didn't really care about that, just thought about whispering "take me home" into his ear and then stumbling back into her hotel room. Just cared about his breath, hot on her ear as his lips brushed behind it. Just cared about a mess of tangled limbs collapsing onto the bed, about bliss and about how nice sex was.

Just cared about how great he smelled and how it felt to have arms around her, bare chests pressed up against each other. She couldn't even remember his _name _by that point, but Bex didn't think she'd ever forget how good he was in bed.

It was so close to dawn that she just let him sleep. She got up and showered, ready to run downstairs so he could let himself out.

But as she was leaving the bathroom, she ran into him, and her towel fell to the floor. Bex made a pathetic squeak of embarrassment, even though he'd seen her naked before. She picked the towel up and re-wrapped it around her chest.

He stared at her, trying to solve her. Trying to figure her out.

_Have fun with that, buddy. I have a feeling you won't guess that I kill demons in my free time. _

The look of determination in his eyes shifted from trying to figure her out to trying to…oh god. No. NnOnNo.

He stepped forward a little, pressing her against the doorway, and _no_ one night stands didn't stay in the morning. They didn't.

They _definitely _didn't run their hands up her leg, like he was doing. They definitely didn't—fuck.

Maybe once. An exception to the rule. Just as a form of rebellion.

Yeah. That was it.

**a/n: **Hey guys! I'm so, _so _sorry about how long this chapter took me to write. My father passed away in the spring, and it was really hard on me for a while. I think I'm recovering a bit, and so I'll probably be able to write more. Unfortunately, school is in full swing at this point, but I'm trying my best to update as often as possible. Thank you for sticking with me.

If you ever need to contact me, message me here, and my tumblr is bex-winchester-broken-roads or maliceinwonderland23. Thank you so much!

Also, please leave a review! I know this chapter was mostly a filler, but I actually really enjoyed writing it (especially the end *winks*)


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